


Gestalt

by oviparous



Category: Arashi (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Childhood Friends, Asexuality Spectrum, Bilingual Character(s), Demisexuality, Epic Friendship, Family, Friends to Lovers, Friendship, Friendship/Love, Growing Up, Living abroad, M/M, Multilingual Character, Original Character(s), Platonic Relationships, Romance, Self-Discovery, Sex, Sexuality
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-20
Updated: 2018-06-21
Packaged: 2019-05-26 02:49:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 48,348
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14991122
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/oviparous/pseuds/oviparous
Summary: gestalt:(noun) an organised whole that is perceived as more than the sum of its parts.





	1. Hello, goodbye

**Author's Note:**

> Definition for 'gestalt' courtesy of Oxford Dictionaries.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Note: Sho, Jun and Ohno don't appear much in this story. They're involved, but not central characters.

They meet at the sickbay.

The school nurse isn’t around because it’s a Sunday, the first day of the Golden Week holidays, and Aiba’s basketball coach curses under his breath when he realises the master key isn’t in the key box; it’s only for emergencies, who else is having one today?

Then the assistant coach of the baseball team comes by to return said master key, apologising when he notices his more senior colleague looking flustered at the key being gone, then explaining how he had to open up the health room because one of the catchers fell on his wrist and they had to get to the better-equipped first aid kit. The basketball coach sympathises noisily and says one of his forwards sprained an ankle; it’s an unfortunate thing to happen so close to competition season. They sigh in tandem. These darned junior high schoolers.

The basketball coach orders Aiba to the sickbay before heading to the office to call Aiba's mother, and when Aiba's safely settled on one of the beds, the teammate who brought him in leaves, and Aiba writhes up the mattress to get comfortable. He looks at the boy in the adjacent bed, the only other person in the room. His eyes are closed, and he’s holding his wrist. It’s swollen. Aiba knows from experience that it’s probably not broken, but sometimes you can’t tell.

The boy exhales through parted lips, and his shoulders look tense. Aiba wonders if he should call out to him. Then the boy opens his eyes, and Aiba looks away, embarrassed to be caught looking.

“Sprain?” asks the boy suddenly, and Aiba turns his head to face him. He nods.

“Didn’t land properly after a jump,” explains Aiba. He points to the boy’s puffed up wrist. “And you—you’re almost part pig.”

“It does look like a trotter,” the boy admits. He lets his gaze linger. Aiba feels the pressure, like it’s up to him to fill the silence.

“What year are you in?” asks Aiba. “I’m new here, by the way, so I don’t know many people.” Aiba thinks the boy could be from his year. They look about the same height. Well, more like length, seeing they’re both reclined on beds.

“I’m a first year.”

Aiba aah-s, relaxes, and breaks into a grin. “First year, huh. Which class? I’m in 2-3, by the way.”

The boy has to have picked up on Aiba’s casual speech, but he brazenly doesn’t change his own. “1-4. You’re a transfer student?”

Aiba nods. “Moved here at the beginning of the school year. My dad’s work moves him around a lot, that’s why we’re in Morioka. I was living in Sendai before this, and Nara before that.” Aiba shrugs. “Might have to move again soon. Dunno.”

The boy cracks a smile. “My dad gets moved around, too. I was born in Tokyo and grew up there for a bit, then my dad—well, his boss—moved us to Fukuoka, Matsuyama, some obscure place in Gunma that had their only Kanto factory… We just kept going north.” He studies Aiba for a second. “You don’t have an accent, though.”

“I can turn it on, but my friends always say I sound weird. My parents are from Chiba City, so we don’t really have the whole dialect thing going on at home. I’ve just picked up things from people I’ve met at school.”

The boy laughs, and winces as the movement jiggles his wrist. “I get it,” he says, recovering quickly, “it’s the same with me. We don’t speak any dialects at home, I’ve only picked up things here and there. That said, I moved here two years ago, so technically I’ve been in Morioka longer than you.” He gives Aiba a grin that’s cuter than it is smug, and Aiba finds himself grinning back.

“What’s your name?” Aiba decides to ask. “I’m Aiba.”

“Just ‘Aiba’?” The boy’s tone is teasing; he’s still testing their boundaries of formality. Aiba is amused. He’s never met anyone like this boy before. It’s refreshing.

“Aiba Masaki, if you must know,” says Aiba flatly, pinching his lips together in mock irritation. “My parents did bother to give me a name.”

This makes the boy laugh again, and he’s not spared the pain this time either. “Don’t make me laugh, Aiba,” scolds the boy, clutching his arm.

Aiba can’t believe the boy’s impudence. “That’s ‘Aiba-senpai’ to you, you got it? This isn’t elementary school anymore.”

“Sure, Aiba.”

Aiba makes a move to get up from the bed to swat at the boy, but there’s a twinge in his ankle and he remembers he’s currently incapacitated.

“I’m Ninomiya,” the boy says, giving Aiba a cheeky smile that shows only some of his teeth. “You can call me Nino.”

“Nino-chan.” Aiba tries the name out, hoping the diminutive would put Nino in his rightful place.

“That works too,” Nino gives a definite nod, “ _Aiba_.”

He’s impossible, Aiba thinks.

Later, they visit the same doctor—it’s Nino’s regular orthopaedic surgeon, and Nino was the one who suggested they go together since Aiba is still so new to the neighbourhood and wouldn’t know where the good clinics are—and their mums get to know each other in the waiting room (the place has has an average waiting time of two hours). Aiba and Nino have a lot to talk about before their consultations: there’s comic book knowledge to be shared, commiseration over having been put through moving across so many different cities so young, and gripes about having siblings, which ends up being a competition over who’s got the worse end of the deal: being big brother to a seemingly more mature younger brother (Aiba), or being younger brother to an academically brilliant, overachieving elder sister (Nino). They end up janken-ing it out. Nino pretends to play with the fingers clutched around his bad wrist, but sticks the wrist out at the last minute to show a limp paper, which beats Aiba’s rock. Aiba calls foul. Nino just snickers.

Their mums end up liking each other so much, they toy with the idea of ditching grocery shopping for dinner to—despite their children having sustained injuries—have an impromptu mums’ night out. Mother’s Day is this month, they comment. Aiba and Nino aren’t that shocked about their mothers’ seeming nonchalance; both boys have played sports since they were in elementary school, and this isn’t the first time their mothers have had to deal with situations like these—their injuries are minor compared to the fractures and complex fractures they’ve encountered before. Besides, Aiba feels sorry that he’s interrupted his mum’s day like this—she doesn’t show it, but it has to inconvenience her somehow—and he does want her to go out and enjoy herself.

Still, Aiba is on crutches, while Nino’s hand is in a cast. Rightfully, the mothers can’t leave the boys to fend for themselves.

“You two should come with,” suggests Nino’s mother brightly. She is actually about 10 years older than Aiba’s mother, so to Aiba she sounds a lot more weathered and therefore, more authoritative. Aiba has no room in his politely-raised self to decline, and says yes. Nino, on the other hand, whines.

“I’ve got to hang out with my mum?” Nino moans. “On a weekend evening?”

“You can’t play games with your wrist like that,” Aiba points out, making Mrs Ninomiya chuckle. “That’s what you want to do, right? Go home and play games?”

“I see you’re already aware of his addiction.” Mrs Ninomiya laughs, winking at Aiba. (Yes, she just winked at him. Should he wink back? No, that’d be weird. Besides, his attempts at winking often get interpreted as face cramps.)

“Kazu doesn’t let casts get him down,” Mrs Ninomiya goes on, shouldering her bag as she gets to her feet. “He still manages to play. He’s done it before, and has developed some very dexterous toes.”

Nino does give in in the end, and Mrs Ninomiya takes them to a cafe which is actually quite nice with its warm Showa-esque decor, all stained glass lampshades and retro wicker chairs. They have to wait again, before they’re shown to a table, and Aiba starts playing with the gramophone that’s sitting on a wooden chest in the entryway. Nino asks him to behave; it might be antique. Aiba really wants to touch it. Nino threatens to call the waitstaff.

They’re finally seated. The mothers sit opposite each other, so the boys do the same. There are actually two tables, pushed together to make enough space for the group, and Nino unceremoniously plonks the menu stand between their table and the mums’. Aiba catches his mother mouthing ‘stage of rebellion’ to Nino’s mum, and hides his laugh behind his hand. Nino probably didn’t see; he’s busy trying to scratch his hand under his cast.

Aiba knows Nino is grumpy because he didn’t expect to have to wear a cast. It’s a really bad sprain, the doctor said, so even though no bones were broken, the ligaments need a cast for the hand to heal properly. Aiba’s injury seems less severe—he’s due back on the court in about a month, if he recovers quickly enough.

“Nino-chan.” Aiba taps on the menu. “What would you like?”

Nino looks up briefly from his scratching. “Do they have hamburg steak?”

“Yes.”

“That, then.”

“It’s his favourite food,” Mrs Ninomiya chimes in, but Nino raises his good hand in warning.

“You stay on your side of the wall, mother,” says Nino, indicating the menu stand, before pulling the salt and pepper shakers apart to flank the stand, further demarcating the space. “We’re having a date here, don’t interrupt.”

Aiba snorts, about to offer a quip of his own, when he realises Nino isn’t actually bothered by his mum; it’s just his way of saying she doesn’t have to pay attention to him or Aiba, that she can just go ahead and enjoy this time she has with her new friend.

Aiba smiles. Despite the barbs, Nino’s quite sweet.

“If you’re calling this a date, does it mean you’re paying?” Aiba decides to tease instead.

“It’s our first date, Aiba-chan,” Nino retorts. “The common courtesy is to go Dutch.”

Aiba has never heard of that common courtesy, but the conversation isn’t intelligent enough to warrant a fact-check. Still, it makes him grin, and he feels a joy, nostalgic. It’s been a while since he’s enjoyed such mindless banter.

Aiba knows it’s not a flaw per se, but despite his smiles and friendly nature, he’s actually really uncomfortable around strangers. He usually takes a lot of time to warm up to people, which means Nino’s quite the anomaly. He’s known Nino for a mere afternoon, but he likes Nino enough to hope to be his friend. Sure, Nino might be a grade below him and they don’t even belong to the same club, but Aiba’s got a feeling Nino’s the kind of guy who doesn’t care about these things, which gives him the courage not to care about them as well.

***

Their coaches aren’t exactly devastated about them not being able to play sports for weeks—there are enough members in the teams to take their place—so they end up feeling kind of unwanted, especially since their clubs are practicing for the junior high friendlies and their teammates don’t have the time or energy to really show them concern.

So they’re happy to have each other.

Nino goes to Aiba’s home after school, since Aiba’s the one with the mobility problem and his house is closer. Aiba finds out Nino is left-handed but writes with his right hand and that baffles him into envy, making him spend an entire afternoon trying to be ambidextrous by writing with both hands at once. Nino lounges on Aiba’s bed, plays Chrono Trigger on Aiba’s Super Famicom, and occasionally looks on at Aiba’s futile scribbling.

Several similar afternoons pass, in which Aiba discovers Nino’s love for a certain robot detective series called Janperson, and Aiba binge-watches it after Nino purposely leaves the VHS boxset at his house. Aiba falls in love with the story and gushes about it to his classmates at school the next day, who try to empathise but are frankly not interested in something that aired over three years ago.

The very same day, Aiba and Nino have a deeply engaging conversation about the plot on the way to Aiba’s house.

Aiba also reveals his fondness for animals. He tells Nino about the pets they used to keep when his dad’s job didn’t move him around that much, tells Nino the names of all three dogs, the squirrel monkey, the terrapin, the parakeet and the axolotl, how they are now all living with his grandaunt in Chiba. Aiba is delighted to find out Nino has pets too: two dogs, of which one is an ancient Shiba-inu called Haru. Aiba can’t wait to visit Nino’s house to meet Haru. Nino says Aiba’s got to get his leg healed up first.

At some point Aiba and Nino start talking seriously about baseball, and Aiba surprises Nino with how much he knows. He only picked basketball because he wanted to be good at something else, too. They spend hours arguing about which high school star should get drafted for the pro teams.

Then one afternoon Nino turns to Aiba and says:

“I’m going to be the same age as you next month.”

Aiba is startled by this revelation. “When's your birthday?” He hasn’t even thought to ask. He’s such a lousy friend.

“June seventeenth.”

“And you’ll be thirteen,” says Aiba solemnly.

“I hope it doesn’t suck.” Nino stares at his left forearm, still in the cast.

“You’ll get that thing off by then,” promises Aiba. “It’s been four weeks since we got hurt—look,” Aiba wiggles his still-bandaged foot, “I can move my foot this much already. I’m sure you only have a little more to go.”

Nino groans and falls back on Aiba’s bed, careful to hug his left arm to his chest.

“What do you want to be when you grow up?” asks Aiba, changing the subject but not straying very far. He gets off his chair and joins Nino on the bed. Together they stare up at the ceiling in companionable silence.

“I don’t know,” says Nino after a while. “I like games, so maybe something to do with games.”

Aiba hums. “I think I’d like to do something related to animals. I miss having them around. Maybe I’ll be a zookeeper.”

“That does suit you.”

Aiba turns on his side to face Nino. “I wonder if we’ll still be friends then?”

Nino can’t turn on his side, but he does swivel his head so he’s looking at Aiba.

“I hope so,” says Nino, before looking back up at the ceiling again.

***

Two weeks later, Nino’s cast is removed. He’s welcomed back to the baseball team, and spends most of his first week back training until it’s dark out. Aiba, who got the green light to return to the court a week before, hasn’t really gotten his heart fully back in the game. He knows it’s because he misses the lazy days, the time spent with Nino. But if Nino’s working hard on the baseball team, Aiba is not going to lose to him. He’s going to set his priorities right. He’s going to play, really play. He’s going to be the best forward on the team.

Aiba’s practice finishes earlier than Nino’s on most days. He considers waiting for Nino every time, but doesn’t in the end, because he gets irrepressibly shy. He’s peeked at the baseball field; Nino’s got his own team, his own friends to horse around with, tell jokes to. He’s Nino, for crying out loud, of course he’s popular. Aiba feels silly for being jealous—he’s 13, not five—and tries to push the thoughts away.

On Nino’s birthday, Aiba gets up early. He’s bought Nino a Yomiuri Giants clear file—technically, it was his dad who bought the file, since Giants’ goods are only available at Tokyo Dome, and Aiba Senior was headed to a conference in Tokyo (but Aiba did save up for it!)—and Aiba wants to put it in Nino’s shoe locker before he arrives at school. He’s written a note so Nino would know it’s from him.

Aiba gets to school, locates Nino’s shoe locker, and is pleased to see Nino hasn’t arrived at school yet. He places the gift on the shelf and hopes Nino likes it.

After practice that day, Aiba heads to the basketball team locker room to get his things and sees Nino outside the entrance. He stops. He doesn’t understand why this feels awkward.

“Hey, Aiba-chan. I’m thirteen,” says Nino, walking up to him.

“Congratulations,” Aiba automatically replies.

“Wanna go to the batting centre?” asks Nino.

“Okay,” says Aiba, and suddenly things aren’t awkward anymore.

***

It’s December.

Morioka is the capital city of Iwate Prefecture, northern enough to be completely frigid during the winter. Aiba gets his report card back one snowy day and plucks up enough courage to show it to his parents. He is harshly reminded by them that he’s turning 14 and really needs to buck up because all these red marks will taint his future if he lets them spawn and breed. He wonders why his parents like to use that particular analogy. He calls Nino up and tells him the bad news: his parents say he has to study over winter break, and they can’t hang out the way they planned to. Nino says it’s okay, they could always study together.

The next day at school, during lunch, some of the boys in Aiba’s class start bragging about the dates they’ve scored for Christmas Eve, which is a week away. Aiba is floored. He didn’t expect junior high second year students to be interested in taking girls out; it sounds very expensive and grownup. One of them, a more serious boy, says the girl he’s dating is the one he wants to give his second button on his uniform to, on graduation day. That’s over a year away. Aiba is again floored. Is this what they call ‘commitment’?

A female classmate approaches the group. Tabe, that’s her name. She’s always been friendly to Aiba, and chummy with the group of boys Aiba sits with at lunch. She asks Aiba if he’s going out with anyone on Christmas Eve. He says no. She asks why he doesn’t have a girlfriend. Aiba is clueless—how is this a _why_ -question? He tries his best to explain by saying he’s simply not interested. Anyway, Christmas Eve is when his birthday is, so Christmas tends to be a family thing for him. Tabe looks kind of sad as she excuses herself, and after that she’s immediately surrounded by a gaggle of girls who throw Aiba menacing looks as they accompany her out of the classroom, probably to the toilets.

After the girls exit, Aiba’s classmates point out Tabe is probably interested in him, that’s why she asked. Aiba is surprised. He didn’t pick up on that, and makes a mental note to read such signs should they ever surface again. The boys all urge him to ask her out, at least make her feel better. She’s not bad looking, they say. Aiba says that’s not it, but now he’s actually considering it, for real, because he feels bad for not noticing her feelings and possibly hurting her. That said, he also knows that sending her the wrong signals might be worse, so he doesn’t really know what to do.

“Are you interested in girls, Nino?” asks Aiba that day as he and Nino walk back to Nino’s house. Practice has been cancelled because there’s supposedly going to be a snowstorm, and all students are to head home as early as possible. Aiba has told his parents he’s going to Nino’s to study, and might even sleep over since it's a Friday evening. They’re sceptical about the efficacy of such a plan, but Aiba’s mother is in constant cahoots with Nino’s and Aiba wouldn’t put it past them to be spying on him and Nino to make sure they’re really hitting the books.

Nino snorts at Aiba’s question. “As interested as you are, I guess.”

“Seriously, though.” Aiba puts one foot in front of the other, watching them sink into the snow that piled up earlier that day. “Some of the boys in my class are going on dates with girls on Christmas Eve?”

“That’s extravagant.”

“I know, right?” Aiba sighs. “But is that it? Is that what fourteen-year-olds do nowadays?”

“They’re buying into commercialism.” Nino gathers his coat tighter around himself. “It’s unnecessary.”

“A girl in my class even tried to get me to ask her out, I think.”

Nino’s eyebrows shoot up in surprise. “Really?”

“Yeah.”

“And?”

“I think she was really disappointed when I said I wasn’t interested. Should I ask her out, you think? Just to make her happy?”

“Don’t even think about it,” warned Nino. “Don’t break her heart that way.”

They walk on, and Aiba feels that he can confide in Nino something that’s been on his mind since lunch.

“Right now, all I want to do is play,” Aiba confesses. “And when I think about me getting older, like when I’m twenty or something, all I can imagine is me being able to drive cool things, like cars and boats and planes and trains. And being a zookeeper, of course.”

Nino laughs. “You ambitious child.”

“Yeah.” Aiba stomps into the snow lining the pavement. “You know what? I don’t care about girls or asking them out or whatnot.” Aiba can’t put a finger on it, but he’s feeling irritated at even being bothered by what happened with Tabe. “So what if I don’t get to give anyone at school my second button? I’ll give it to my mother! _She’s_ a girl.”

Nino bursts out laughing. “Sure, you go do that.”

Aiba nods, straightening his bag on his shoulder. “I totally will.”

There’s another chuckle from Nino, before he says, a little more quietly:

“Alternatively, you could give it to me.”

Aiba stops to stare. “Why would you want my button?”

“So I’ll have an interesting story to tell someday, like at your funeral,” says Nino, not missing a beat. “‘He told me I was his one true love.’”

Aiba kicks some snow up, aiming it at Nino’s shins, but Nino’s already expected it, and swiftly ducks behind a lamppost, laughing.

***

Aiba’s birthday present from Nino appears in his school bag on the day itself. He isn’t sure how Nino put it there, but he discovers it right before first period and can’t stop grinning as he takes the game out to look at it. It’s not brand new; it’s one of Nino’s, the Legend of Zelda game that Aiba’s been pestering Nino to trade. Aiba wonders if Nino had only refused because he was saving the game to give to Aiba as a birthday present. It sends a shot of warmth up into Aiba’s chest, and for the rest of the time until lunch he finds it hard to concentrate on his lessons—all he wants to do is to run upstairs to where the first year classrooms are and thank Nino for the gift.

He is waylaid, however, by the gaggle of girls who rallied around Tabe the other day. They block the path to the door and stop him in front of the noticeboard.

“Aiba-kun, Mika-chan is really upset about how you rejected her last week,” says one of the classmates, and Aiba has to bite his tongue before he slips up and asks who this ‘Mika-chan’ is. It’s got to be Tabe, he chides himself, there’s no one else.

“I didn’t _reject_ her,” he tries feebly, but the girls aren’t having any of it.

“Please, just go out with her,” begs one of them, the one with glasses. “She’s understands today’s your birthday so it’s kind of special for your family—”

“—and she doesn’t mind settling for Christmas Day itself,” finishes the third girl. “If you’re free tomorrow, she’d really like to hang out with you.”

Aiba looks at the three of them, then casts a quick look towards Tabe, who sits at the back, in the corner. Tabe is concentrating very hard on opening her bento, and doesn’t meet his eyes.

“Come on, Aiba-kun,” the girl who first spoke up says in a low voice. “Mika-chan really likes you. She’s liked you for a while now. Give her a chance, won’t you?”

***

“And you said yes?” asks Nino in wonder, seating himself on the sofa, gripping his mug of tea.

Aiba drops his hands into his lap unhappily. “There was so much pressure, Nino-chan. I had to.”

Nino gives a protracted sigh.

They’re in the living room at Aiba’s house; his brother is home, upstairs somewhere, and Mrs Aiba has popped out to the shops. There’s going to be a nice dinner tonight to celebrate Aiba’s birthday and Christmas at the same time—the Ninomiyas are invited, though Mr Ninomiya is coming late because he’s got to work overtime, and Nino’s sister has deigned to skip a night of home revision to join them on this special day.

The party is starting at seven; it’s only five-thirty, and Aiba doesn’t feel like he’s in the mood for fun.

“It’s quite remarkable,” Nino finally says, “that someone likes you enough to make this much effort. I mean, she didn’t give up. She really hankered after that date.” Nino gives Aiba an admiring look. “What does she see in you?”

Aiba groans and pretends to punch Nino in the arm. “Don’t be so patronising.”

“I’m genuinely marvelling at the situation.” Nino shakes his head. “It’s true love—on her part, at least.”

Aiba manages a weak chuckle. “Maybe I’ll end up liking her.”

Nino gingerly takes a sip of his hot tea. “So that’s what you’ve been telling yourself, huh?”

“Yeah.” Aiba wedges himself into the space between the coffee table and the sofa, grabs a cushion, pummels it, then dumps his face into it and screams.

“You’re too nice, Maa-kun,” says Nino very quietly, almost soft enough for Aiba to have missed it. But Aiba doesn’t.

“I’m too nice?” asks Aiba, considering this new bit of information as he draws the cushion down his face. He’s never thought of it that way. To him, being nice is a virtue; it’s never crossed his mind that it could be excessive. He tips his head back against the seat of the sofa and peers up at Nino’s upside-down face. Nino is looking straight at him, lips pinched, brows drawn.

“You don’t have to be nice to everybody,” says Nino, his voice still a whisper, and Aiba looks on, fixated, as one of Nino’s hands leaves the mug, and lands gently on Aiba’s cheek. It’s incredibly warm and surprisingly soft; Aiba feels the tension leave his body.

“You’re going to get hurt someday, if you keep on being this nice.” Nino sounds concerned.

Aiba doesn’t say anything back; he’s not done taking in Nino’s touch, and lets his eyelids flutter shut. He angles his head so it presses against Nino’s thigh. It makes him forget his worries, makes him feels safe.

“It’s not good to be bad,” mumbles Aiba seconds later, nestling even closer to Nino. “Haven’t you heard of karma?”

It’s Nino’s turn to be quiet. A moment later his hand leaves Aiba’s cheek. 

“You’re right,” says Nino, a note of finality in his voice. He doesn’t meet Aiba’s now-open eyes. “It’s just one date, it’s probably not going to be a thing.”

“It won’t be a thing,” says Aiba, before leaping up to the sofa and making Nino curse because his movement was so sudden and Nino is still holding that mug of tea. “I won’t go steady with her, I promise,” says Aiba, cheeks flushing. “I get what you’re saying. I don’t want to hurt her either.”

“Yeah,” comes Nino’s reply, before he draws back and sort of worms into the sofa. He brings the mug of tea closer to his face and touches its rim to his lips, and it’s several contemplative moments later that he drinks.

Aiba watches him, feeling mysteriously content.

***

They’re moving again.

There isn’t any way to embellish it, Aiba knows, and it never gets easier. He had a friend in Sendai—Kazama ‘Kazapon’ Shunsuke—who’d promised to write and call, but it was just difficult to do often despite Sendai being in the neighbouring prefecture, Aiba knows, since he himself never seemed to find the time or make the effort to write and call Kazama as much as he thought he would, so maybe the friendship wasn’t as solid as he’d thought after all. But it was important, Aiba remembers. Kazama’s friendship had meant something to him, even though he’s let it fade.

This time, they’re moving to Taiwan.

Nino’s reaction is kind of expected: he’s calm, and cracks a lopsided grin, asking if Aiba’s ready to learn how to speak another language. Aiba wishes Nino is more upset, and it’s probably visible on his face, because Nino prods him with a foot and tells him not to get all mopey. It’s only Taiwan, Nino says.

The plan is to leave just before school lets out for the summer, so Aiba and his brother can be admitted to an international school in Taiwan at the beginning of their new school term. They have three months to pack everything up and say goodbye.

Aiba has just started junior high third year. He didn’t expect to have to finish his school year abroad. He was so looking forward to this year—he was going to have new classmates, an arrangement which excludes Tabe (she had gotten over him after their spectacularly awkward Christmas date; reportedly he wasn’t as ideal as she’d imagined him to be), and his coach has just promoted him to starting player. His grades are doing better too, thanks to a fair bit of (paid) tutoring by Nino’s sister, and he was just starting to look forward to that part of school. Having to start it all over again, in another country at that, is a daunting concept.

“I’m just so… discouraged,” says Aiba to Nino. They’re in Aiba’s room, sorting out his comics. He’s planning to give most of his collection to Nino; no point in lugging all this weight overseas.

It’s a hot day in June. Nino has been 14 for a couple of weeks now. They’re the same age again.

“It’s just Taiwan, Aiba-chan,” says Nino for the umpteenth time, with the complimentary eye roll. “A stone’s throw from Okinawa. You can probably catch a ferry back to Japan.”

Aiba tosses a book into one of the piles. They’re seated cross-legged on the floor, dozens of tankobon surrounding them. Aiba didn’t mean to make a mess, but it’s clearer this way. He can see all the titles, the covers, the art. It makes missing them a lot easier.

“It’s our fate, as children of capable people,” Nino goes on, and Aiba is once again thankful that here is a person who actually genuinely gets how he feels, who isn’t just trying to console him with empty words. “Every move just means more money for the family. I like to think of it that way.”

“It’s just feels different this time,” grumbles Aiba, stacking up his Slam Dunk collection. “I think it’s because I’m older, I dunno. I’m just more aware of what’s important to me, and it gets me scared. Like there’s more to lose now. Like—if I move some more, I’m just going to miss out on whatever I can have, wherever I happen to be.”

“You’re thinking about Kazapon,” says Nino simply, and for a moment Aiba is stunned, because he doesn’t immediately remember that he’s ever told Nino about Kazama, but then the memory slowly trickles back—it came up during one of their lazy summertime conversations, when Aiba was still on crutches and Nino had that botched up hand. It feels like yesterday, but it also feels like an eternity ago. What a weird perception of time.

“You’re wondering what it could’ve been, if you guys had gone on to graduate together, or actually tried to visit each other during the holidays.” Nino shrugs. “I get it. I’ve had my own Kazapons.”

“Don’t you feel sad?” asks Aiba.

Nino shakes his head. “There’s nothing to feel sad for. I’ll never forget those people. I’ll never discount the connections we’ve had. That’s enough for me.”

Aiba ponders Nino’s words. “True. You might even meet them again someday.”

“You know what they say: it’s a small world.” Nino gives Aiba a pat on the back. “Don’t stress over what you can’t control.”

There is a lot to do in the weeks leading up to the big move, though the labour mostly falls on the adults’ shoulders, and Aiba’s main duties involve packing up his room and writing thank-you notes to his teachers. Then the day comes for Aiba to say goodbye to people at school, and it’s still hard, so he cries a bit halfway through his farewell speech, and at the end of the school day Tabe comes up to him and offers him a handshake. After telling him to take care she teasingly asks if he can give her the second button on his uniform, but he declines.

“It’s not graduation day,” Aiba says pointedly, making Tabe laugh, and they part ways.

Aiba folds up his uniform when he gets home, and just as he’s about to put it away he spends a short second thinking about the possibility of his mother getting upset when she sees it’s missing a button before deciding she wouldn’t care, and plucks the second button off the fabric.

Nino meets him in the kitchen of the Ninomiya residence looking quite disgruntled at being interrupted mid-game, but Aiba can’t stay long so the kitchen would have to do—going up to Nino’s room always involves some kind of gaming session, and as much as he would like that, he really needs to be home in time for the family phone call they’re going to make to his great-grandmother. He takes Nino’s hand to drop the button into his palm.

Nino looks at the button blankly. “What’s this?”

“The second button of my school uniform. You said I should give it to you.”

Nino laughs. “I was just joking!”

“Now you have your funny story for my funeral.” Aiba feels accomplished.

Nino has a wicked gleam in his eye. “Not really, you haven’t told me I’m your one true love.”

Aiba quirks a smile and sings:

“You’re my one true love, Nino-chan.”

“Aw. You’re so easy.”

Aiba shakes his head, laughing. “On a more serious note—you’re the best thing that’s happened to me in Morioka,” Aiba gets shy as he says this, but ploughs bravely on, “and I’m glad I met you.”

At this, Nino seems to go _soft_ : his lips part, his gaze turns wistful, his slouch becomes more pronounced. Aiba nudges Nino’s shoulder, making him sway. Nino gives a half-hearted giggle, then sighs resignedly and gathers Aiba into a hug. Aiba immediately hugs back.

“Don’t get all sappy, Maa-kun,” says Nino, and Aiba can feel Nino’s chin digging into his shoulder. It hurts, just a little bit.

“Come visit or something, okay?” says Aiba, but Nino doesn’t promise. It’s a very Nino approach to the situation. Aiba doesn’t doubt that he’s entertaining the prospect.

Then the hug is over, and Aiba has to go. Nino gives a wave and Aiba exits out the kitchen door, calling a loud ‘bye’ to the rest of the house, and smiles when he hears Mrs Ninomiya holler it back from upstairs. 

Aiba gets on his bike and pedals home.

***

Taipei is a lovely city, and the school Aiba attends is a big K-12 one with kids from all over the world. His brother Yuusuke goes to the Taipei Japanese School, which was actually Aiba’s first choice, but the school doesn’t offer education beyond junior high and Aiba’s only got half of his final year left so he agrees with his parents that attending a school with a high school department is the more practical choice, since he’s going to have to go there anyway. He doesn’t do very well for his placement test, unfortunately, and barely scrapes by with his marks into Year 8—age-wise, he’s supposed to be in Year 10 next semester—with the promise of an express advance into Year 9 if he does well on his end-of-year exams. It gives him quite the shock but he elects not to attend the Japanese school since he’ll still have to further his education at some point, and decides to stick with the international school. His parents are supportive and hire a tutor, and when he’s still lagging behind in English and Mandarin they hire two more, though because Yuusuke participates in the language lessons they’re actually quite fun, and Aiba looks forward to them.

A month into the fall term, Aiba’s Mandarin tutor asks him and Yuusuke to talk about their best friend, and Aiba naturally talks about Nino. He strings together a sentence about how Nino plays baseball and is a really awesome catcher, and upon further prompting and assistance he manages to describe how Nino really likes video games, and all of a sudden Aiba is overcome with emotion as he realises he really, really misses Nino.

They aren’t at their permanent Taipei residence just yet; Aiba’s father’s company has rented an apartment for them as they wait for the previous tenants to vacate the roomier one that’s closer to the office. Aiba asks his mother for Nino’s address, and as she gives it to him she reminds him to tell Nino that the return address is subject to change, since they’re moving at the end of the year. She’s told Mrs Ninomiya about it, and Mrs Ninomiya said they’ll wait for the Aiba’s New Year card to learn their final address. Aiba reads the Ninomiya brand of tact in there—Nino’s mother was trying to say she knew it’d take time for them to settle down in Taiwan, that they didn’t need to concern themselves over social niceties when it came to the Ninomiyas.

When push comes to shove and the letter pad is lying open on his desk, Aiba doesn’t really know what to write. He’s stuck after the ‘hello’—what do you say to a friend whom you wish were here? What words would be appropriate to immortalise on paper? Aiba’s no poet, and Nino isn’t expecting him to be, but he wants to try.

It’s Kazapon all over again, Aiba realises as he closes the letter pad after throwing away eight drafts, and leaves the task for another day.

***

They finally get their address and phone number, and this time there’s even an actual timeframe—they will be in Taipei for six years. Aiba’s dad is now vice-president of the Taipei branch of Katsui Corporation. Aiba isn’t exactly sure what he does, but he knows it’s got to do with trading.

Aiba is considerably close to his dad, but even he gets surprised when his dad sits him down one night before bed and apologises for moving the family around so much.

“You and your brother are going through some of the greatest changes of your life as teenagers, and I feel bad that we’re further rocking your boat,” says his father, looking forlorn. “Sorry, Masaki.”

Aiba just pats his dad on the back and says:

“It’s okay. You just want the best for us.”

It alarms him greatly when his father cries. It also warms his heart.

Aiba’s mother sends out the New Year’s greeting cards, and Aiba locates the one that’s going to Nino so he can scribble a ‘Hi Nino-chan! How are you? I’m good! -Aiba Masaki’ beside his mother’s careful penmanship of a formal message talking about how spring is upon them and she sends wishes of well-being to the Ninomiya family.

The card gets sent back to them in February.

Aiba’s mother is perplexed; even if the Ninomiyas have moved, the mail forwarding service should have gotten the card to their new address. It weighs so heavily on her mind that she long-distance calls the Ninomiya’s number, finds it out of service, before contacting Japan Post to file a formal enquiry; weeks later they’re sent a letter: the family they’re trying to contact seems to have moved, and the forwarding address possibly contains an error, because there are no Ninomiyas living at the address provided.

Aiba and his mother are quite horrified. They seem to have fallen out of contact with the Ninomiyas.

***

Aiba is in Year 9 now, still two grades behind his peers, but doing well at school. He’s still playing basketball, and is a lot taller than he was in Morioka so the hoop is definitely closer.

He’s made some very good friends, both at school and within the Japanese community in Taipei, and has gotten a lot closer to his brother, Yuusuke, who’s in his last year at the Japanese junior high. Recently they’ve started watching horror movies together on Friday nights; Aiba gets too scared to sleep after, and has to bunk in with Yuusuke. He’s made Yuusuke swear not to tell anybody. Yuusuke, who’s equally scared, says he won’t tell if Aiba doesn’t.

Aiba’s doing his homework at the dining table one evening when Yuusuke gives a loud shriek, calling for Aiba and their mother to come to the living room. There’s a variety show they’ve never seen before on the Japanese cable channel, and Yuusuke turns up the volume on the TV so they can all watch.

“It’s Nino, Nii-chan!” Yuusuke taps on the dancing figure dressed in a yellow hoodie, and Aiba gapes. It _is_ Nino—it’s his name, the right age, that unmistakable face. He’s singing into a microphone, waving to the camera as another boy comes and drapes an arm around his shoulder.

“He’s a Tommy’s Junior, that’s so cool,” moans Yuusuke.

“What’s that?” Aiba’s mother asks.

“Like… a trainee idol,” says Yuusuke.

“An idol, huh.” Aiba’s mother is smiling widely. “Kazuko-san did mention how she’s always wanted to send an application to a talent agency on Kazu-kun’s behalf.”

There’s a tumult coursing through Aiba, emotions he never knew he had in his library of feelings. There’s an unbelievable fondness—he hasn’t laid eyes on Nino in a year and a half, Nino looks exactly the same—and a weird, weird sense of betrayal, which stuns him, because it feels like he’s actually upset that Nino is now available for all the world to see, and it stings like the time Nino went back to the baseball team after he recovered from his wrist injury and Aiba thought he was going to be forgotten.

When Aiba is in Year 10 the scene repeats itself, with Yuusuke shrieking at the TV and calling his family to the living room to watch the press conference that’s announcing a newly-debuted Tommy’s and Associates group: Nino is one of the four members.

The emotions that struck Aiba a year before resurface, along with a sickening, gnawing guilt, because Aiba has several regrets about not having been able to contact Nino all this while: if only he sent his letter to Nino earlier, if only they tried harder to search for the Ninomiyas during their trips back to Japan, if only he didn’t take it for granted that his mother would definitely be connected to Nino’s, if only he mustered up the courage to write to Nino while he was still a Tommy’s Junior. The broken links make Nino a stranger now, even more so that he’s officially entered showbiz, because everyone knows it’s in bad taste to try and contact someone you haven’t in a long time just because they’ve gotten famous.

Yuusuke helps to sum up Nino’s current activities: the newly debuted idol group is made up of four boys, their name is ‘People’—classic Tommy’s & Associates naming convention, rather poor—their debut song is called ‘Get your game on’, and Nino is set to star in a drama this summer with veteran actress Nakamura Tamao.

Aiba thinks he should bury the hope of ever getting to know Nino again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry about naming them 'People'. It just seemed hilarious at the time of the fic's conception, and then it stuck.
> 
>  _Tenkinzoku_ (転勤族) is the Japanese term for families like Aiba's and Nino's that move around along with the breadwinner's job. It literally means 'moving job tribe'.


	2. Maybe some summertime

“Are you a People fan?” asks Aiba, pointing to the large canvas bag his new friend, Vivian, is toting. It's got People's tour logo emblazoned on it. She nods vigorously.

“I went to their concert in Japan last year,” Vivian says, animated with delight. “I’m so glad you know them! J-pop isn’t very popular in Singapore.”

Aiba laughs. “I’ve definitely noticed. It used to be. Pity.”

Aiba and Vivian chat in mainly Mandarin, but Vivian understands a fair bit of Japanese so they pepper their conversation with that as well. She’s from Taiwan, here at the University of Singapore on a six-month exchange. Aiba is in his third year at uni, finishing up a Life Sciences degree, and is part of a student volunteer team that buddies up with exchange students, helping them integrate into campus life.

“Who’s your favourite member?” asks Aiba, as they head towards the canteen.

“Sho-kun,” Vivian replies instantly. “He’s so smart and charming. But they’re all lovable,” she says fondly. “How about you? Who’s your favourite member?”

Aiba hesitates before saying:

“Actually, I’m not really a fan. I sometimes listen to their music, that’s all.”

And it’s true. Aiba has spent the past few years following People like a half-hearted stalker, wanting to know what’s going on with the group in general, except without any details. He only buys albums, for example, and although he knows which variety shows they appear in, he never watches any of them. It’s not that he does it on purpose—it’s more of a reflex action, like he’s refraining from intruding on a part of Nino’s life that was never privy to him. It’s such a paradox, especially since that part of Nino’s life is the most public, but that’s how Aiba feels, and he’s determined to keep it that way.

He learns from Vivian that Nino has been missing from variety show tapings because he’s overseas working on a project, and it’s only weeks later that Vivian, who’s now his good friend and resident People news source, runs up to Aiba first thing in the morning squealing about the news that just broke: Nino is starring in a Hollywood movie, that’s why he hasn’t been around. He’s the first Tommy’s & Associates talent to do so, and it’s wildly exciting for the fandom and the industry.

All that wells inside of Aiba is joy, joy, and joy. He is truly happy for Nino and feels incredibly proud. He badly wishes he could call him up to congratulate him, but all he can do is go home and listen to Nino’s adorable solo from the latest album, bobbing his head to the beat as he sings along. His mother comes home from her babysitting job and asks why he’s in such a good mood. He tells her. She celebrates with him, joining in Nino’s song at the chorus.

Aiba lives with his parents in Singapore. While in Taiwan, his father was headhunted by another company and they asked if he was open to the idea of moving to Singapore. It seemed like the perfect arrangement—Aiba had just been accepted to the university, and now there was a job opportunity offering higher pay and a chance for the family to be together. It was natural that Aiba’s father said yes. A few years after moving over, they realised they liked living in Singapore so much that they sold the land they had in Chiba to buy property in the country, and just last year they obtained permanent resident status.

Yuusuke, on the other hand, elected to stay behind in Taipei to finish up high school. The school provided board for international students, so he spent a year living there, during which he found out his passion was cooking Chinese food—after graduation he enrolled at a culinary arts school in Taipei, and is currently an apprentice at a Michelin-starred restaurant.

That evening, Aiba gets an email from Yuusuke asking if he heard that Nino is starring in a Hollywood movie. It makes Aiba laugh. Since the day he saw Nino on TV, Yuusuke has always been the one feeding tidbits of information about Nino to Aiba. It’s almost as if Yuusuke is holding out for Aiba to one day reconnect with Nino so he can boast about how his big brother is Ninomiya Kazunari’s friend. It’s this part of Yuusuke that Aiba finds cute, and even though he does want to grant Yuusuke his heart’s desire, it’s not like Aiba can just phone Tommy’s & Associates and ask to speak to Nino. He’s pretty sure the entertainment industry doesn’t work that way. It’s safer to do what he’s doing—hang back, watch from the shadows, and send as many good vibes as he can.

***

It’s not nepotism, Aiba tells the friends who dare to tease him. He got into the company fair and square, no one even knew the Chief Operating Officer is his dad. His dad wasn’t even in the panel of interviewers that decided to employ Aiba. It just turned out this way—Aiba wanted to apply his degree, the company his father is leading is a giant in the environmental technology sector, and he ended up being good enough for the research arm. That’s all there is to it.

Having said so, his dad being this high up in the company does make Aiba want to prove that he’s capable, that he’s not just in here for a joyride on the COO’s expense. He spends a lot of time reading papers—by some fluke he’s now decently functional in three languages, which really expands his horizons—and tries to learn as much as he can so he can present his own findings better.

“Masaki, call for you,” Aiba's colleague says as he holds out the receiver. They do their paperwork in a small office connected to a lab; there aren’t any cubicles, and there’s only one phone. Aiba thanks his colleague and takes the call.

The person on the other end speaks Japanese. He says his name is Chikazawa, and he’s calling from TBN, Tokyo Broadcasting Network, and wants to make sure that this is indeed Aiba Masaki. Aiba is bewildered. He says yes. Chikazawa goes on confirming his identity, asking if he lived in Morioka in 1996 and attended Morioka Dai-ichi Junior High. Aiba says yes again. Chikazawa sounds suspiciously excited as he asks if it’s okay that this phone call is recorded. Aiba doesn’t see any reason to say no, so he says okay.

“This is _awesome_ , we actually found you,” gushes Chikazawa, and goes on to explain that he’s the assistant producer of a variety show called Tokoton Family, and one of their segments is to help their guests meet the people they most want to meet. Chikazawa explains that Ninomiya Kazunari from People is guesting on the show, the broadcast is in about a month and they’ve been searching for Aiba-san on the internet, but he’s been incredibly hard to find because he has no internet presence, until some smart assistant director suggested they search ‘Aiba Masaki’ in roman letters and somehow, after a lot of digging and trying to match blurry group photos on Friendster to the one of a 14-year-old Aiba-san that Ninomiya-kun provided them with, they’ve found him.

Aiba starts to feel quite light-headed as he listens to Chikazawa speak, since he’s pretty sure Nino has tasked a TV programme to try and look for him.

“The idea is for you to appear in the studio from behind a curtain,” Chikazawa continues, “he wouldn’t know until the curtain is lifted if you’re coming or not. If you can’t come, we would really appreciate you leaving a message for him, at least. We will reimburse you for your flight here if you choose to take up our offer.”

“When is the recording?” asks Aiba, heart racing.

“June sixteenth.”

Aiba tells Chikazawa he’ll check his schedule.

***

Some anticipatory music is played, the cameras zoom into Nino’s face, and the curtain is swiftly lifted. There is a collective cry as the audience beholds what is beyond the curtain—it’s a phone, on a phone stand, and a member of the staff wheels it out of the space and into the studio. Nino has gotten up from his seat; he’s laughing with his head tilted back, his palms frame his cheeks, and his eyes squeeze shut as he yells:

“ _Seriously, Aiba?_ ”

In front of his computer, Aiba bursts into giggles. He’s managed to get himself connected to a live feed that beams TBN to Singapore. It was expensive to set up, but seeing that he’s able to watch Tokoton Family real-time, it’s worth every penny.

Aiba knows what’s coming next. He was at the other end of the call, after all. On his screen, Nino’s ears turn pink as he approaches the phone. Until now, Aiba has forgotten that Nino’s ears do that. Nino is—was— _nervous_. It makes Aiba cackle.

“ _Unfortunately, although we found him, it seems like the person you want to meet isn’t here today,_ ” the host of the programme says to Nino.

“ _I can definitely see that_ ,” says Nino, who’s kept his palms on his cheeks. “ _This is such a shock_.”

They’d played a reenactment earlier in the programme, showing who Aiba was to Nino by romanticising their first encounter in the sickbay, complete with narration and a performance by two histrionic young actors. The VTR then went on to show some highlights of their friendship: the video game and batting centre sessions after school, the endless comic book discussions, and finally a scene which showed Young Nino waving goodbye to a Young Aiba the day he left for Taiwan (which, Aiba notes, didn’t actually happen—the last exchange he had with Nino was in his kitchen, when he gave Nino his second button). The reenactment also portrayed, from Nino’s end, the glitch in the exchange of addresses and the eventual loss of contact, thought it didn’t go into detail what happened that resulted in the Ninomiyas leaving Morioka; it makes Aiba wonder.

The programme also aired some real footage of the staff trying to track Aiba down—they’d searched in Japanese on the internet, like Chikazawa had said, and when efforts ran futile they tried the name in roman alphabets, and what had come up was a Friendster profile with no picture (Aiba forgot he even had that account), and a name on a life sciences presentation mentioned on a homepage belonging to the University of Singapore. They looked through the accounts in the Friendster profile, finding some of Aiba’s friends and trying to spot him in their photos. There was a photo he’d been in, taken at a conference he’d attended in his second year, and the caption happened to mention his name. The friend who’d posted the photo was also from the University of Singapore, so they knew they more or less had the right guy. The team then called up the science faculty at the university before getting referred to the alumni association, who weren’t allowed to reveal Aiba’s particulars, but after a lot of pleading and clarification of the situation, the alumni association sympathised, and gave them the name of Aiba’s place of work.

“ _If I pick up this phone, it’ll ring him up?_ ” TV-Nino asks.

“ _Yes,_ ” answers the host, “ _go ahead._ ”

Nino waits for a beat. “ _Oh crap. You do it_ ,” he says to the host, letting loose a giggle, and it makes Aiba laugh.

“ _You’re nervous?_ ” asks the host incredulously. “ _That’s rare, Nino!_ ”

“ _I’m nervous! Of course I’m nervous,_ ” Nino snaps, though he’s still grinning. “ _I haven’t spoken to him in ten years!_ ”

The audience laughs, and after a bit of bargaining Nino musters up the courage, picking up the phone and pressing a button. There are dialling sounds; the call is broadcast to the studio.

“ _When he picks up you have to talk to him,_ ” the host reminds.

“ _I know_ ,” says Nino, his ears still red.

The call connects, and Aiba hears his own voice through the speakers.

“ _Hello?_ ” says TV-Aiba.

Aiba can’t help but smile, cheek-achingly, as he sees Nino react to his voice—Nino pulls his fingers down his cheeks and says:

“ _God, my armpits are sweaty._ ”

There are roars of laughter amongst the studio audience, and Aiba laughs along with them. He didn’t hear that the first time; the microphone connected to his call must not have picked it up. TV-Aiba goes on to say:

“ _Sorry, who’s this?_ ”

“ _I’m sorry, this is Ninomiya_ ,” says Nino, straightening and wiping his palms on his pants. “ _Aiba-chan?_ ”

“ _Oh—Nino?_ ” TV-Aiba says back. Aiba remembers how he’d been genuinely surprised that day. They’d told him the programme would be calling from the studio; he didn’t expect Nino himself to have been making the call. Also, he didn’t immediately recognise Nino’s speaking voice. He remembered it to be much higher.

“ _We’re in the studio, recording for Tokoton Family_ ,” says Nino. “ _They said they found you, so why aren’t you here?_ ”

TV-Aiba and actual Aiba laugh at Nino’s bluntness.

“ _I’m in Switzerland_ ,” says TV-Aiba.

“ _Switzerland?_ ” several of the regulars on Tokoton Family—collectively, they’re called ‘The Tokoton Family’—comment dramatically from their seats behind Nino.

“ _I thought you’re in Singapore?_ ” asks Nino.

“ _It’s a work trip I couldn’t get out of, sorry. I really did try, but it’s a company presentation, big affair._ ”

“ _No, I completely understand,_ ” says Nino, his manner earnest.

“ _Hello, Aiba-san,_ ” speaks up the host, “ _this is Goto from the Tokoton Family. Thank you for agreeing to this phone call._ ”

“ _No problem, Goto-san. It’s nice to meet you._ ”

“ _Aiba-san, are you aware Ninomiya has been appearing on TV and movies and such?_ ”

On the screen, Nino licks his lips and takes a deep breath.

“ _Of course, yes. He’s a member of People,_ ” TV-Aiba says, and Nino looks pleased, relieved and surprised, all at once.

“ _So you’ve been keeping track of him?_ ” Goto goes on to ask.

“ _I’m not a hardcore fan or anything, but I do have a general idea of what he’s up to, yes. I watched ‘Letters’ with my family. We loved it so much we went twice, and my dad even bought the DVD._ ”

Nino dunks his face into his hands and mutters:

“ _Crap, this is making me really happy._ ”

Aiba doesn’t remember hearing that through the phone either, and he fights yet another cheek-aching grin, thankful for good studio microphones.

“ _Send my regards to your family, Aiba-chan,_ ” Nino goes on to say, before he exchanges looks with Goto, and Aiba figures they’ve gotten some sort of signal from the staff off-screen to wrap up.

“ _Nino, before we go, is there anything else you want to say to Aiba-san?_ ”

Nino scrunches up his face and presses his thumb against his nose, humming as he thinks.

“ _I’d like to meet you again, if possible._ ”

It’s the second time he’s hearing this, but experiencing it again through the broadcast makes Aiba relive the same rush of affection, tingling down his spine and into his toes.

“ _Definitely. The producer knows how to get in touch, so._ ” Aiba can’t believe how TV-Aiba sounds so smooth and collected. He remembers being very excited for the entire duration of the call.

“ _Let’s chat again, when the entire nation isn’t listening in,_ ” jokes Nino, prompting some laughter.

“ _Of course._ ”

“ _Thank you very much for your time, Aiba-san!_ ” chimes in Goto, ready to disconnect the call.

“ _Wait,_ ” says TV-Aiba, “ _one more thing_.” There is a short pause, and then:

“ _It’s a day early, but happy birthday._ ”

Some superimposed text appears on the screen, informing the audience at home that Ninomiya’s birthday is the day following the recording, but all Aiba is focusing on is the look on Nino’s face, the absolute picture of elation.

“ _You remembered!_ ” exclaims Nino.

TV-Aiba laughs. “ _Of course._ ”

“ _Thank you, Aiba-chan. And I’m sorry, but we have to go._ ”

“ _Oh, okay. Bye, then!_ ”

“ _Thank you, Aiba-san!_ ”

“ _Bye, Goto-san, and everybody else in the Tokoton Family!_ ”

The call ends, and Goto looks to Nino.

“ _He’s such a good guy!_ ” Goto exclaims, and is met with murmurs of consent from the Tokoton Family.

“ _He is,_ ” says Nino, looking proud.

“ _He even remembered your birthday!_ ” one of the members of the Tokoton Family points out.

“ _They must have dated,_ ” another member says knowingly, and his joke sends a ripple of laughter through the audience.

“ _It does feel like that!_ ” says Goto, cracking a laugh himself. “ _You guys have a great relationship, it doesn’t feel like you’ve been apart for so long._ ”

“ _Thankfully._ ” Nino nods. “ _Aiba-san has always been very considerate and gracious. Always thinking about others. That’s what I’ve always admired about him._ ” He bows in his seat, thanking the staff and Tokoton Family once again for reconnecting him with Aiba, and the audience claps.

The programme reaches its last couple of minutes. Nino promotes the last episode of the drama he’s starring in, there’s a title call, and then the broadcast ends.

Aiba clicks the window shut and stares at his computer screen for a few seconds, processing his joy.

There had been both disappointment and relief when he found out he couldn’t make it to Japan on June 16th—disappointment because he really did want to see Nino again, and relief because he wasn’t sure how Nino would react upon seeing him. Now that he’s watched the show, however, he feels not being able to be there in person was for the best—Nino said some very heartfelt things about him, things that might not have been said should Aiba have appeared at the studio.

There is also a part of Aiba that is deeply curious—what had happened that made Nino’s family suddenly move away from Morioka? He hopes it wasn’t a death or something else tragic. Looking at the way Tokoton Family’s VTR didn’t even try to mention the event worries Aiba. Guilt attacks him, too; what if Nino had needed a friend then?

What if Nino had needed him?

Aiba’s line of sight drifts to the calendar he’s placed beside the computer monitor. It’s almost July, and Nino still hasn’t gotten in touch with him. There are a thousand reasons why this is so, mainly involving how Nino is a superstar in the middle of filming a drama, so Aiba tries not to be pessimistic, but it’s hard. He can’t help but let his mind wander: what if it had all been for show? What if Nino had just run out of ideas for appearing to be interesting and randomly decided to search for his junior high school best friend? They’d only been best friends for a year, after all. There’s a chance it didn’t matter that much to Nino.

Another wave of guilt. Aiba sighs. He’s thinking the worst of Nino. That’s really wicked of him. He’s got to trust Nino.

He does trust Nino. Nino isn’t ghosting him or anything; he must just be busy.

There’s a series of boops from his computer, and Aiba sees the MSN Messenger notification box pop up. It’s Vivian.

 _Just watched Tokoton Family—was that you and if so you own me a huge explanation_ , is all she’s typed. Aiba laughs. Vivian was the one who taught him how to watch TBN live—she does the same thing for herself because she’s in Taiwan—and Aiba isn’t surprised she caught the broadcast. She watches all the shows People are on.

Aiba starts to type a reply back to Vivian, explaining how he’d lost touch with Nino over the years and wasn’t sure if it was appropriate to say he actually knows the guy. As he’s composing his message, another notification box pops up. He’s got mail, from an unknown address ending in _.jp_. The subject is ‘Hey Maa-kun’. It makes Aiba jump from his seat.

Aiba deletes whatever he’s written to Vivian so far, fires off a ‘Sorry! Will talk to you soon!’, and closes the chat window before navigating to his mail client.

***

“Singapore isn’t that far,” argues Nino. “It takes the same amount of time to travel to Hawaii by plane.”

“But to have you go to such expense…” says Aiba’s mother despairingly, looking at Nino first, then his mother. “I feel bad.”

“Don’t.” Nino’s mother claps her hand on Mrs Aiba’s. “We’re the ones who should feel bad for springing this surprise on you.”

“No, no.” Aiba’s mother laughs. “It’s _such_ a pleasure to meet you again.”

Aiba notices Nino’s cup is empty, and reaches across the dining table to grab the coffee pot. He refills Nino’s cup, then tops up his own cup for good measure. Nino says thank you before giving Aiba a queer look.

“You’re awfully quiet,” he says.

Aiba puts down the coffee pot. “It’s just surreal,” says Aiba, gesturing to Nino and his mother. “I can’t believe that you—the both of you—are in our home. In Singapore. And it sort of reminds me of the day we first met.” Aiba turns to his mother. “Do you remember, Kaa-san? We went to that cafe after going to the doctor’s?”

Aiba’s mother nods. “We sat like this, too,” she says, indicating how Nino is opposite Aiba and she’s opposite Nino’s mother. “It’s surreal. I get it.”

“This boy didn’t tell me he got in touch with Maa-kun,” Nino’s mother jabs a finger at Nino accusingly, “but I happened to watch this show he was on, and found out.”

“Tokoton Family?” Aiba’s mother turns to him and asks, and he nods. She was out babysitting when it aired and hasn’t watched the episode.

“So I told him: ‘We have to go see them’,” Nino’s mother goes on, “and he’d just finished wrapping up filming for his drama so I insisted we come immediately, because he doesn’t have many days off.”

Nino chuckles. “I have to fly back tonight, but yes.” He looks at Aiba over the rim of his coffee cup, ready to take a sip. “She couldn’t wait to see you guys.”

Aiba feels a smile coming on, and fights it. There’s a part of him that’s worried about the silliest thing: he’s afraid he isn’t cool enough for Nino. Showing himself—his true self—seems unwise. Nino’s a big shot pop idol now, constantly armed with an arsenal of wisecracks and obviously talented enough to score lead roles in movies and dramas. Aiba is just one boring researcher, painfully obscure in a conglomerate full of far more capable people.

He wishes he could be prouder of himself.

“Is it okay if we two have a chat?” Nino’s mother pipes up, gesturing to the space between her and Aiba’s mother. Nino nods and gets up, and as Aiba’s mother suggests he show Nino to his room, Aiba is plunged into a state of panic—he hasn’t expected to have to take Nino to his room, it’s frightfully unkempt and… god, he can’t remember if he’s cleared the dirty laundry off the floor.

Nino’s already sauntering ahead of Aiba, his slouch as pronounced as ever. The rascal. Aiba can’t hold in his grin as he takes in Nino's gait. It looks so familiar.

“Wait,” says Aiba, hurrying towards the corridor leading up to the bedrooms. “My room isn’t very presentable right now—”

“You’ve always had high standards, Aiba-san,” says Nino, though thankfully he stops. “Your room can’t be messier than mine.” He studies the doors available to him. “Which one is it?”

Aiba takes the knob of the door closest to Nino, and pushes it open.

It’s not too bad, Aiba thinks decidedly. The floor is laundry-free—he must have taken his clothes to wash after all—and the desk is cluttered, but not dirty save for a mug with coffee dregs in it. He shuts the door behind him and switches on the air-conditioning.

“Singapore must be terrifyingly hot for you,” says Aiba, gesturing for Nino to sit in his desk chair as he heads for the bed. Discreetly, he straightens his pillow and smooths down the covers, then sits down.

“It’s all right, actually. We’re just easing into summer back home. Definitely isn’t this humid, though.” Nino twists his body to place his forearm across the armrest before leaning his weight on it. To anyone else the movement will seem throwaway and inconspicuous, but for Aiba it brings back many memories of Nino draped on a chair, playing a video game or doing his homework. It also makes Aiba realise he’s never really seen anyone else sit so flexibly.

Nino looks around the room, taking in his surroundings. He points to the shelf of comics. “I see you’ve amassed another collection over the years.”

Aiba nods. “There are quite a few Japanese bookstores here. It’s kind of expensive because of the markup, but we don’t go back to Japan much, so.”

Nino hums. “You don’t?”

Aiba shakes his head. “Yuusuke stayed on in Taipei, learning how to be a chef, and you know how my dad doesn’t have many relatives. Not anymore, at least.”

Nino holds Aiba’s gaze for a moment. “How is he? Your dad?”

Aiba shrugs. “He’s okay. Chief Operating Officer of the company I work at.”

Nino hums again, this time in wonder.

“I didn’t get in because of connections or whatever,” Aiba hastily supplies, making Nino laugh.

“I didn’t say anything,” says Nino loftily. He looks at Aiba again, exhausting his smile. “I guess it’s time to tell you why we moved, huh?” Nino sighs and sticks his thumb towards the door. “It’s what they’re talking about outside, by the way. It’s not a pretty story.”

Aiba has been dreadfully curious, he’s not going to hide it. The reason does seem weighty, however. “It’s okay if you don’t want to talk about it now,” says Aiba.

Nino waits. His eyes flick to the floor, then up again. “A couple of days after you left, this woman and a little girl showed up at our house and said they were my dad’s family.” Nino pauses. “His _other_ family.”

Aiba freezes. “An affair?”

“Pretty much, yeah. Kaa-san couldn’t forgive him. Neither could we.” Nino sighs. “I don’t know if we did the right thing, but we pretty much walked out on him. At the time it didn’t seem cruel, because of how he hurt us, but now that I’m older… I don’t know. It does seem like a dick move. Really spiteful, and really sad.”

“What do you mean, ‘walked out on him’?” asks Aiba.

“One day, while he was at work, we packed our bags and the dogs, and left for Tokyo. Without a word. It was the summer vacation, so Nee-chan and I didn’t have to go to school and didn’t have to answer to anyone. We didn’t even leave a note. He knew we only had my grandparents’ to go to, but my grandfather was the kind of dad who’d kill anyone who hurt his daughter, so it made sense that he didn’t dare come look for us. That was our intention, anyway. We knew he wouldn’t come.”

Aiba took some time to digest all this. “He took your mother’s name when they got married,” Aiba says slowly, remembering. “That’s why you’re still ‘Ninomiya’.”

Nino nods. “You remember.”

“Yeah. You said your grandfather was really touched he wanted to help preserve the family name.”

Nino gives a grim smile. “You can guess how furious my grandfather was, then. But my mother was clear about the no-cheating thing right from the start, and for my dad to even have a family out there… It was very disappointing.”

“So you guys left Morioka shortly after we did?” asks Aiba.

Nino nods. “Kaa-san did go back to Morioka to get the divorce finalised and to obtain the paperwork for us to transfer schools. She left all matters pertaining to the house to my dad, since it was rented for us by his company.”

“Which explains why our postcard got sent back,” says Aiba. “Wouldn’t it have been forwarded to your dad’s new address, though?”

Nino shrugs. “He got his old surname back and went to live with his other family. Maybe he just didn’t want to have anything to do with us either. Like I said, we did our best to try and hurt him back.”

That makes sense to Aiba. At least Nino’s father didn’t throw away the card upon seeing it was mainly for Nino’s mother. He actually had it delivered back to the Aibas.

“What you went through—it must’ve been tough,” says Aiba. No wonder Tokoton Family didn’t tell this part of the story. It’s painfully private.

“Not as tough as it was quick. Everything happened so fast, I only had time to deal with the feelings after.” Nino shifts his body, and props his chin up with his other palm. “But it’s also taught me how important it is to take a step back and look at the big picture.” He gives Aiba a sorry look. “You must have been worried about us.”

“We were.” Aiba meets Nino’s eyes. “You know… It still feels surreal that you’re here.”

Nino laughs. “Really? It’s that weird?”

“It’s not _weird_. Just kind of unbelievable.” Aiba takes a deep breath. “I thought we’d never meet again. You seemed so far away.” Aiba manages a smile. “And I’m not talking about the distance. You’re… well. You know. _People, get your game on,_ ” Aiba sings the famous bit from People’s debut song, even doing the hand motions. Nino barely smiles.

They fall into a pregnant silence.

There are a lot of things Aiba wants to say, but he doesn’t know how to say them. He wants Nino to know he’s never forgotten him, but he’s too shy to say it. He wants the kind of friendship they used to have, but he can’t imagine how it’s possible now. He doesn’t want to be greedy, or worse, sound needy.

“Listen,” Aiba finally says. “I’m really glad you came. I just want you to know that. And looking for me through that show. That was… That was really unexpected. Thank you. And thank you for telling me why you had to move. I’m really sorry about what happened with your dad, too.”

Nino doesn’t say anything. He’s just sort of frozen there, staring at a spot on the bed. Aiba watches him.

Very slowly, Nino stretches. He extends his limbs, scrunches up his face, and grunts. Aiba bites down on a laugh. When Nino is finished, he retracts into Aiba’s chair once more.

“We’re such idiots,” says Nino.

“Huh?”

Nino lets his sigh end in a grin. “I’m going to be disgustingly honest with you right now, and I need you to just… listen, okay?”

Aiba doesn’t know where Nino is going with this, but says okay anyway.

Nino inches the chair over to where Aiba is sitting. “One of the reasons I became an idol was to reach you. I thought if I could be in the public eye, you could see that I was okay, that I was still me. I really hoped you’d get in touch.”

Aiba swallows the lump in his throat. “Really?”

“Yes.”

“But I live overseas,” says Aiba weakly, though it isn’t the best excuse. There are lots of ways international fans get their information; he should know, People has been in his periphery long enough.

“I get that. I’m not blaming you. I just… miss you. That’s all.” Nino knocks knees with Aiba. “I’ve really missed you.”

Aiba looks away from Nino. “It’s not that I didn’t want to get in touch, or that I couldn’t. It was just… painful, I guess, to see you successful and talented, and surrounded by successful and talented people.” Aiba covers his face with his hands and falls back on the bed. “I don’t know—I guess I was jealous. Jealous of you, and the people around you. I didn’t even think that you would notice me anymore.”

There is a thump, and Aiba knows Nino has just joined him on the bed. He doesn’t take his hands off his face.

“I used to sift through the fan letters every week,” says Nino. Aiba spreads his fingers to peek through the gaps. Nino is lying on his back, hands folded behind his head, staring up at the ceiling. “I really thought you’d write.”

“I’m sorry.” Aiba lets his hands slip off his face.

Nino turns his head to look at Aiba. “I’m not guilt-tripping you. I’m just stating the facts.”

“I know.”

“I know you know, but I still want to make it clear.”

“Yeah, and I still want to say sorry.”

Nino’s lips quirk into a smile. “Question: do you still want to be a zookeeper?”

Aiba blinks. “Why?”

“I just remembered a conversation we had a long time ago, lying on your bed.” Nino turns on his side to prop his head up with his hand, facing Aiba. “So—do you?”

“Well, that’s the dream.” Aiba laughs. “I did major in environmental biology, you know.”

“In English, right?”

“Yeah.”

“You’re so smart.”

“I’m not.” Aiba truly doesn’t believe he is, especially when compared to Nino. He’s heard Nino’s comebacks on TV. “It just happened. I had to start two grades lower when I went to Taiwan, did you know that?”

“It doesn’t mean you’re not smart. Stop discounting yourself,” scolds Nino gently. “And you work harder than anyone when you set your mind to it.”

“…Stop being disgustingly honest.”

It’s Nino’s turn to laugh now. He lowers his head off his hand and, in an unexpected move, slides up against Aiba to angle his head against Aiba’s shoulder.

“I hope you get to be a zookeeper. It suits you,” says Nino, like they’re 13 again.

Aiba just looks at him, feeling incredibly fond.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aiba-chan is constantly saying how Vivian Hsu is his dream girl, so I decided to make her a central character in this fic. She's older than Aiba-chan in real life by about seven years so I scaled her age down to match his since they had to go to school together.
> 
> Tokoton Family was modelled after the variety shows Gyouretsu no Dekiru Houritsu Soudanjo and Shabekuri 007.
> 
> Tommy's & Associates was... well, you get the idea.
> 
> I'm actually _from_ Singapore, where many Japanese live as well, so I thought I'd do a little PR for the motherland.
> 
> Friendster, MSN Messenger - you can tell I lived through the early 2000s.
> 
> I know Aiba-chan has this image of not being technologically savvy, but I'm making him embrace tech in this fic because he actually loves using his smartphone which I take to mean he's not completely averse to tech!
> 
> All chapter titles have ties to some Aiba-chan solo. There's a UB one somewhere as well :)


	3. You, in this dream of mine

Aiba buys an uchiwa with Nino’s face on it.

People’s ninth anniversary concert tickets are incredibly hard to get even though they’ve increased the number of venues they’re performing at—they’re travelling to all five domes this year—and though Aiba personally knows a member of the group he finds out they really don’t have actual tickets to give. What they do have are seats reserved for people in production, which are very close to the stage but aren’t as good as some of the ones available to the fan club. Still, Aiba doesn’t mind. He accepts Nino’s offer of a seat at the concert (“It’s probably going to be right in front of a speaker, you might want to bring some earplugs,” warns Nino) and happily tells Vivian he’s going to Tokyo Dome too.

“You’re so lucky,” complains Vivian as they walk out of the goods area on the day itself, her eco-bag stuffed full of People merchandise. She’s come alone from Taiwan to attend the show the next evening; the friend who scored tickets is flying in from Canada tonight. “You’re practically two degrees of separation away from Sho-kun.”

Aiba shushes her, waving his Nino uchiwa in her face as he looks around. “It’s just how things worked out. Don’t be jealous.”

“You’d better tell me if he’s more handsome in person,” Vivian threatens, “and how he smells.”

“I’m not going to smell him,” says Aiba in a fierce whisper, herding Vivian towards the adjacent shopping mall, “that’s just weird.”

They take a break at a fast food joint, where Vivian bombards Aiba with Nino-related questions as quietly as she can, and when Aiba reveals Nino invited him to the People greenroom, she narrows her eyes, half admiring, half incensed.

“I can’t believe you’re getting to go to their greenroom!” moans Vivian, stabbing her straw deeper into her iced tea. Aiba has to shush her again.

“Think about it this way: _you’re_ going to be two degrees of separation away from Sho-kun!” Aiba beams.

“Can’t we just make it one?” pleads Vivian. “Bring me along!”

“I would if I could, but it’s not the right time or place.”

Vivian makes a face and slumps. She continues stirring her drink. “You could tell them I’m your girlfriend,” she says, voice loud. “They’ll let me in then, right?”

Aiba rolls his eyes. “But you aren’t my girlfriend.”

“Use your imagination!” scolds Vivian.

Aiba pushes the tray of fries towards Vivian. “Please, eat, just so your mouth has something else to do.”

Vivian grabs a fry and takes a ferocious bite, not taking her eyes off of Aiba. It makes him laugh. Then her expression shifts, and she wears a frown as she leans towards him.

“Could I just ask, Aiba-chan—do you have a girlfriend?”

“Nope,” Aiba immediately replies, taking a fry himself.

“Then… Why?” Vivian persists.

“What do you mean, why?”

“I’ve known you for three years, and you’ve never made a move on me.”

Aiba chokes on his fry. “Why would I make a move on you?”

“Because I’m hot?”

Aiba erupts into snorts of laughter. Vivian looks affronted.

“I’m not laughing because I don’t find you attractive, Vivian,” says Aiba, wiping tears from his eyes. “I’m attracted to you—as a friend. I love that you’re my friend. I like our relationship just as it is.”

“Well, I like our relationship just as it is too,” admits Vivian, “but I can’t help but wonder.”

Aiba selects another fry. “About what?”

Vivian shrugs. “Whether anything’s possible between us.”

Aiba raises his eyebrows. “Vivian, are you - do you—”

“I do not have a crush on you,” says Vivian indignantly, pink dusting her cheeks. “I’m just wondering, okay?”

Aiba laughs. “Okay.”

“Eat your fries.”

“Okay.”

“Forget I ever said anything.”

Aiba smiles. “You’re cute.”

“Oh, crap.” Vivian buries her face in her hands. “I’m crushing on you now, just a little bit.”

Aiba laughs, but there’s a twinge in his heart that’s somewhat familiar. He recalls the time he felt like he’d disappointed Tabe. This feels like it, somehow.

He isn’t very interested in romance right now. He’s tried a hand at it—twice, in fact—and eventually gotten frustrated, bored, overwhelmed, fatigued. And he’d been young, inexperienced, and in one of the relationships, too busy with university coursework to attend to the needs of another person, so he wonders if it really was love.

He’s aware that some of his friends are falling in love, some even out of love. Some of his friends have gotten married. Some even have babies. But he’s happy. He might not be wildly happy, like some people he knows claim to be, but he’s content. _Tremendously_ content, in fact, now that he’s got Nino back in his life again, and his family members are healthy, and his friends are amazing. Maybe he’s missing out on something great, sure, but he’s blissfully ignorant. Just because he’s never fallen deeply in love with someone doesn’t diminish his current happiness, or make it less important.

Vivian raises her head and lets out a whoosh of air past her lips. “Okay, I’m over you.”

“That fast?” Aiba pretends to reel back in shock.

“Yeah. I have Sho-kun, you must remember.” Vivian grins. “And,” she taps the uchiwa Aiba has laid on the table, “you have Nino.”

Aiba laughs, nodding. “Absolutely. He’s my one true love.”

Vivian raises a fry in the air. “To our one true loves!”

Aiba returns the toast with a fry of his own, and feels inordinately thankful to have wonderful people in his life.

***

Sakurai Sho, Aiba finds out, smells wonderful.

“Right, Nino managed to find you through Tokoton Family!” exclaims Sho, right after Nino introduces them. Sho extends a hand to Aiba for a hearty handshake, and Aiba makes a mental note to tell Vivian he got to _shake Sho’s hand_.

Despite Sho’s friendliness Aiba still feels quite shy. Sho is the People member Aiba has heard most about, no thanks to Vivian, and it’s really strange getting to meet him in person. Nino seems to have picked up on Aiba’s unease, and comes to sit beside him.

Nino offers him a bun from his bag of buns.

“Why are you eating now? Aren’t you going to dance on stage in, like, twenty minutes?” asks Aiba, refusing the bread. He’s full of fries and soft drinks.

Nino stuffs the rest of his half-eaten bun into his mouth. “So what? I’m hungry.”

Aiba shrugs, and raises his hand for a high-five. “Rebel,” he says, as Nino laughs and slaps his hand.

Sho looks on in interest. “You guys are hilarious,” he decides.

The door to the greenroom swings open, and in walk a few people: some of the staff, and the remaining two members of People Aiba has yet to meet. He gets up from his seat to give a slight bow as Nino beckons Ohno Satoshi and Matsumoto Jun over.

“Leader, Jun-kun—this is my friend, Aiba Masaki.”

“Hi, Aiba-kun,” says Matsumoto, grinning. “Very nice to finally meet you.”

“Ah, you’re the guy Nino was looking for,” says Ohno, the leader, giving a small wave.

Aiba is surprised. Has Nino’s endeavour to look for him generated this much interest within the group?

“Hello,” says Aiba tamely. “I’m Aiba Masaki.”

“So they’ve heard,” says Nino, still munching on bread. “Aiba-san’s gonna be sitting in the arena today, please take care of him,” Nino announces to the room at large. Several staff members murmur their acknowledgement; some nod.

“This is all very cool,” says Aiba, “Thanks for the opportunity.”

Nino pats him on the back and nods to Matsumoto. “Thank J, he’s the one who decided you can come.”

Aiba looks at Jun. He’s never seen a more dazzling person, what with that perfectly coiffed hairdo and flawless makeup. The embodiment of superstardom. Aiba is awed. “Thanks, Matsumoto-san.” He bows.

“Aw, you can call me Matsujun, no problem.”

“Okay,” Aiba grins, “Matsujun.”

“Stop charming him, J,” says Nino, and Jun simply cackles before stalking off to his corner of the room.

“Not to put you on a spot, but do you have a favourite member?” asks Ohno as a member of the staff approaches him to adjust his hair.

Aiba automatically points to Nino. This prompts Nino to give a smug, two-fingered salute at Ohno, before draping an arm around Aiba’s shoulders. Aiba nods sagely. He’s got Nino’s back. Silently, they exchange another high-five.

“We should try and change Aiba-san’s mind by the end of the night,” Jun suggests to Ohno and Sho, who laugh and nod.

“ _People, get your game on,_ ” sings Sho. Jun and Ohno automatically pump their fists in the air going ‘yeah, yeah’—Aiba laughs; it’s their debut song—and Nino tuts at them.

“Okay, enough fun,” says Nino, placing his hand in the small of Aiba’s back to push him towards the door. “We’re going to be on soon. Wave at us!”

“I will,” promises Aiba, before giving one last bow to the group. “Do your best!”

***

“—and then these cannons went off, and silver tape burst all over the audience!” gushes Aiba into the phone. “You should’ve been there!”

“I’ll be there tomorrow,” says Vivian. “Anyway, I’m glad your first concert went so well.”

“It did! I sat beside this guy in a cap, and it wasn’t only until the concert ended that I realised it was Tackey!”

Vivian makes a strangled sound. “Okay, any more of this and I’ll be so jealous I won’t be able to sleep. Good night, Aiba-chan. I’m glad you had fun.”

“Night!”

“Oh, and thanks for telling me how Sho-kun smells like lavender. I owe you forever.”

Aiba laughs. “Enjoy the concert!”

“I will. Bye!”

Aiba disconnects the call, fullness in his heart. It’s nice to be able to share happy things with someone all the time, and have them affirm your joy. If this is how being a fan feels, he doesn’t mind being more involved in supporting People’s activities.

“Were you just speaking Chinese?” asks Nino, stepping out of his room, his hair still damp from his shower.

“Yeah, but not very well.” Aiba laughs. “But my friend can speak pretty good Japanese, so we sort of mix things.”

“Ah, I see.”

“You know what? My friend learnt most of her Japanese by watching People’s variety shows!” Aiba bounces on the sofa with his knees as he turns to speak to Nino. “She’s a huge People fan. Her favourite member is Sho-kun.”

“Oh?” Nino offers Aiba a smile as he walks over to the kitchen. “That’s nice to know. What’s her name?”

“Vivian. She likes you too,” says Aiba encouragingly. He watches as Nino takes a couple of beers out of the fridge.

This trip is eight days long, spanning the first two weeks of November. It came about after Nino’s short visit to Singapore, when he suggested Aiba should visit sometime. Since the Aibas no longer have a residence in Japan, they have an open invitation to the Ninomiyas’ homes (both Nino’s and his mother’s). Aiba took Nino up on the offer, and decided to visit in between projects. It was sheer coincidence that the trip happened the same time as the anniversary concert. Aiba feels bad that he’s intruding on Nino’s space during such a busy time, but Nino has assured him he currently doesn’t have any filming outside of the regular TV shows, so he’s actually not too caught up. Aiba hasn’t told anyone except his parents that he’s staying with Nino during this time.

“So, this Vivian.” Nino gives Aiba a can of beer, which he takes. “You’ve known each other long?”

“Three years, thereabouts. We met when she came to Singapore on exchange.”

“Ah. Cool.” Nino sits down beside Aiba, cracks open his own can of beer, and clinks it against Aiba’s. “Cheers.”

“You’ve worked hard today,” says Aiba, nodding to Nino, and takes a draught of his beer.

“Thanks," says Nino, lips against his can. He peers up at Aiba. "You didn't mention Vivian the last time we met."

“Why should I?” Aiba is bewildered for a moment, then it clicks. “Oh! No, we’re not together. She’s just a friend.”

“Really?” Nino’s tone is teasing. “You guys seem close.”

“We _are_ close, but I don’t think there’ll be anything between us, ever.” Aiba crosses his legs on the sofa to face Nino, and holds his beer clasped in both hands, in his lap. “Can I tell you something I just realised about myself?”

“Sure.” Nino tucks his foot sideways under his thigh and leans against the backrest, ready to listen.

“Coincidentally, just today, Vivian and I talked about this whole, ‘could we ever be together’ thing. I was very clear about how I’m not attracted to her that way, but it’s also made me think about how I’ve never really been interested in girls.”

Nino goes very still. “What do you mean?”

Aiba cocks his head, thinking. “I mean… I think I’ve never been _in-love_ in love. Not the kind of love that everyone expects you to have with a special someone. Not the earthshaking, 'I will die for you' kind you see on TV. And I really don’t think I need that.”

Nino looks puzzled. “You’ve got to elaborate. You mean you’re not interested in romance, is that it?”

“A little bit of that, but I think on the whole I’m still open to the idea. I think what I’m looking for is a _natural_ relationship. I’m not interested in the whole, ‘keep the romance alive’ kind of thing—I just want to, I don’t know, always feel okay picking my nose in front of the other person, but also be able to genuinely tell them I love them. You know?”

Nino laughs. “I think I get what you mean.”

“You do?” 

Nino nods. “There was a guest on our variety show who said her husband never asked her formally to be his girlfriend or anything. They were friends first, then things just happened organically, and one day they sort of realised they’re together. Even now, when they’re married and everything, they’re just really good friends. The love is a little different now, she said, but it’s not too far from the original.”

Aiba snaps his fingers. “That’s the ideal. I’d like something like that. No thrills, no frills.”

Nino rolls his eyes. “You didn’t watch that episode, I’m guessing.”

“I’ve _told_ you, I kept you in my periphery. For a long time it felt super weird to see you on TV. But I totally know how to sing your solo from last year!” Aiba starts singing, then stops when he realises he’s messing up the lyrics. “Wait, that’s from the _second_ chorus…”

Nino’s obviously tickled; he chuckling softly as he listens to Aiba. “Impressive,” he praises. “Did Vivian teach you that?”

“No, I learnt it myself,” says Aiba, feeling proud. “Vivian did teach me some of the hand motions to the new songs, though. We practised outside the dome before I went to look for you in the greenroom, but during the concert I was so excited I forgot everything.”

Nino laughs. “You and Vivian sound like good friends; surely something organic can happen between you two.”

Aiba purses his lips. “I don’t know. We’re friends, but not the serious kind. The stuff we talk about is kind of superficial. I’m not saying she lacks substance. It’s just… I can’t see myself talking to her about what we’re talking about right now, for example. I can talk to her about my dreams and hopes, maybe, but somehow I just know I can't tell her my worries. The person I want to be with is, ideally, someone whom I can drop all my pretences with.”

Nino tucks in his chin, giving a sad sort of laugh. Aiba looks on curiously.

“So you’re saying,” says Nino, “you want to be in a relationship with someone you can confide anything in.”

“Yes. And this person has got to be okay with the no thrills, no frills thing.”

“Right. And it also has to be someone who understands you, sees you for who you are and doesn’t judge.”

“Not only that. I want to be accepted and loved for who I am,” Aiba reminds. “Not just, ‘oh, he’s like that, leave him be’. I want that person to embrace me and all my flaws.”

Nino has on a mystifying smile. “And is there someone who loves and accepts you like that in your life right now?”

“My mum,” Aiba immediately replies, then gets flustered. “Oh, dear. That did _not_ come out right.”

Nino lets loose a loud cackle, and accidentally spills the rest of his beer on his pants. “Oh god, Maa-kun. Think before you speak.”

“I know, I heard myself. Yikes. I do _not_ want to romance my mum.”

Nino gets up from the couch, still laughing. “I’m going to change and go to bed. Have fun with your thoughts, and if you need more beer, you know where to get it.”

“Thanks for the chat,” Aiba calls after Nino, who disappears past the door into his room.

With Nino gone, Aiba finds himself bored and unwilling to work any more of his brain. He finishes his beer, brushes his teeth, and goes to sleep.

***

Yuusuke is in Japan, to buy some kind of rare, expensive mushroom, so Aiba takes the chance to meet him. They haven’t met in ages. Their parents visit Yuusuke in Taipei pretty regularly, but Aiba doesn’t have that much annual leave to spare.

It's the night before Aiba returns to Singapore. Nino happens to be free that evening too, so Aiba invites him along. Yuusuke doesn’t know Nino’s coming, and when they meet at the restaurant, he baulks at the door of the private room.

“Nii-chan, is this who I think it is?” asks Yuusuke with a widening grin. He’s heard, of course, about what happened on Tokoton Family, since he’s kept People on his radar.

Aiba is starting to think he should introduce Yuusuke to Vivian.

“Hey,” greets Nino, “long time no see.”

They order beers and toast each other and generally have a good time, and after his fourth beer Yuusuke suddenly gets weepy. Aiba asks him what’s wrong.

“It’s so good to see you two together again.” Yuusuke hiccups through his tears. “Nii-chan was so sad when we lost touch. Kaa-san too. And now you’ve found each other!”

“No, it wasn’t any of my doing, Nino was the one who found me,” says Aiba, feeling the tears come on as well. How many beers has he had?

“Oh my god, you guys,” drawls Nino from his seat opposite them, rolling his eyes. He hits the service button. “I’m going to ask for water. Can’t believe I’m drinking with two crier-drunks.”

“Nino, please don’t leave my brother again,” says Yuusuke, grabbing Nino’s hand from across the table.

“I didn’t leave him,” says Nino, swatting Yuusuke’s hand away. “Tell him, Maa-kun. You were the one who went to Taiwan.”

“It was worrying to see him trying to adjust,” Yuusuke continues, face crumpling once more. “It was so hard for him in Taiwan—I felt so bad for having it good. It was always easier for me. Sorry, Nii-nii!” Yuusuke lunges towards Aiba and locks him in a hug.

Despite the haze of intoxication, Aiba is moved. He understands where Yuusuke is coming from. Since they were kids, Yuusuke was always better suited to being the nomad. He was outspoken and gregarious, and tended to be more emotionally independent than Aiba, to a point where people often commented how Yuusuke seemed more like the elder sibling. He did have a sensitive side, but he never let it get the better of him. To top it all off, he was also better at academics. Aiba, on the other hand, often mulled over things too seriously, and took longer to come out of emotional quagmires. He didn’t realise it at the time, but since they started moving, there was a part of him that had truly resented Yuusuke’s otherness and in his way, he’d tried to make up for it by being as different as he could. He gave his all at sports, letting his studies take a backseat, and it wasn’t until he got into the University of Singapore that he was able to look back and be thankful how the defeat of having to start school two years behind people his age changed his attitude.

“It wasn’t that hard,” says Aiba, patting Yuusuke’s arm consolingly.

“It could’ve been easier.” Yuusuke looks at Nino. “Everywhere had been difficult, except Morioka. Because you were there.”

“That’s not true,” says Aiba, waving a hand, remembering Kazama. “There was Kazapon. In Sendai.”

“We were in Sendai three years,” says Yuusuke stubbornly. “It took you a long time to find a friend like him. In Morioka you had Nino almost immediately. Really, it was different,” Yuusuke tells Nino earnestly. “He hadn’t been that happy in a new place before.”

There is a knock on the door, and a waitress comes in, responding to Nino’s button-call. Nino asks for water, and after a quick discussion they end up ordering more beer and an okonomiyaki.

The conversation shifts to something else, the waitress comes back with the drinks and food, they start talking about Yuusuke’s mushrooms, and by the end of the two hours they are happily fed and mostly wasted. It’s still rather early so they ask Yuusuke if he wants to visit their home, but he says he can’t because he’s got to work early the next day, so they pack him in a taxi and send him off to his hotel. Aiba and Nino then get into another taxi, bound for Nino’s place.

“Yuusuke was the one who was always keeping an eye on People,” says Aiba, as Nino rides beside him in the backseat. “I always had this feeling he was holding out for me to contact you.”

“But you never did.”

“I never did.”

There is a beat of silence, before Nino asks:

“Do you wish you did?”

“No,” is Aiba’s instant reply, “because then I wouldn’t have known how much you wanted to meet me.”

“Ah.”

Nino doesn’t say anything else for the rest of the ride. Aiba attributes it to him being tired—his hat is in the way so Aiba can’t be sure, but his eyes seem closed—so Aiba spends the rest of the ride looking out the window sleepily, wondering if Yuusuke has gotten to his hotel yet.

***

Aiba has to leave at four in the morning to catch the bus to the airport. He was going to let himself out of the apartment without waking Nino, but Nino apparently doesn’t want to go with that plan.

“Go back to sleep,” chides Aiba as he drags his suitcase out of Nino’s guest room.

“I’ll send you to the door,” says Nino, walking ahead of Aiba. His hair is sticking up all over the place, and he rubs at his stubble, stifling a yawn.

Aiba parks his suitcase at the entryway and checks that he has his passport.

“Got everything?” asks Nino.

Aiba nods, then gives Nino light tap on the shoulder. “Thanks for letting me stay.”

“Any time. Hope you were comfortable.”

Aiba laughs. Nino lives in one of those fancy high-rise condominiums in the heart of Azabu-juuban. He’s even got three toilets. Aiba’s had a _splendid_ stay. “I was very taken by the ensuite bathroom. You live like a superstar.”

Nino smirks. “That’s because I’m one.”

“And a part of me still can’t believe it.” Aiba shakes his head, sighing. “Anyway,” Aiba grabs the handle of his suitcase, “I’ve got to make my bus. Guess it’s bye for now, superstar.”

“Hang on.” Nino is fishing in the pocket of his sweatpants. He pulls something out, and takes Aiba’s wrist to slap it into his palm. “Here.”

Aiba peers down at the object. It’s a metal button, one that looks strangely familiar. It looks like it belongs on a uniform. He gasps in recognition as he realises what it is, then pouts.

“Why are you returning this to me?” asks Aiba.

Nino only offers him a befuddled look. “What?”

“I mean, I’m glad that you kept it all this while, but it was a gift.” Aiba tries to return it, but Nino pushes his hand back.

“Aiba-san,” says Nino, not without condescension, “this is from _my_ uniform.”

Aiba blinks. “Oh.” He blinks some more. “Wait, what?”

“We had the same uniform…?”

“No, not that, I know that,” says Aiba impatiently, “I mean: why are you giving me this?”

“Because I want you to tell a funny story at my funeral?” Nino folds his arms against his chest, grinning. “Because it’s the kind of stupid thing we do?”

Aiba finally gets it, and bursts out laughing. “Not because I’m your one true love?” he teases.

“That too,” says Nino, with a straight face.

Aiba rolls his eyes, and pulls Nino into a hug.

“What do you know,” says Nino against his shoulder, “just like the last time.”

“Not really. You weren’t so short the last time,” says Aiba truthfully.

“Wow. You’re going there?”

They laugh, and Aiba pulls back from the hug. “Don’t get all sappy, Nino-chan,” says Aiba as he ruffles Nino’s hair.

“That’s my line,” Nino shoots back before making a swipe at Aiba’s hand. Aiba retracts his hand to avoid the blow; Nino ends up batting at air, and curses.

Aiba grins. “Keep in touch, all right?”

“Yeah.” Nino makes a shooing motion. “Go. Don’t miss the bus.”

Aiba gives Nino one last wave, and lets himself out of the house.

It isn’t until he’s on the plane that Aiba takes the button out of his pocket and looks at it again. It’s an unremarkable oddment. Aiba wonders: what was the first guy to ever give the second button on his uniform to a girl thinking? How did this practice catch on? What made it become such a tradition? Most importantly, how on earth did the girl come to associate, and even accept, the button as a profession of love?

Aiba finds himself smiling. He likes the idea of something as random and unremarkable as a uniform button being able to profess something as great as love. The fact that Nino has given him this button makes him even more enamoured with the concept. Sure, it started out as a joke of sorts, but that doesn’t change how the buttons actually bear a valuable sentiment. Aiba gave Nino his button first, but Nino has clung onto that memory for all this time. Because of what happened with his dad, Nino had transferred schools sometime in his second year at junior high; this button was something he’d saved on purpose despite his trying circumstances; it was something he must have kept and treasured just so he could give it to Aiba when they met again.

It’s a beautiful thought.

***

Aiba’s parents are stunned when he tells them he wants to go back to Japan.

“Masa, we don’t want to discourage you, but you do understand the financial risks of this, right?” asks his mother, exchanging an anxious look with his dad.

“I’ll work part-time as I study,” says Aiba. He’s gone over his options; he’s got everything worked out. “I’ll have to dip into my savings, but it’ll be fine. I won’t even exhaust them if I’m prudent.”

Aiba’s father is frowning. “So there’s no scholarship?”

Aiba shakes his head. His dad sighs.

“Then I’m not sure this is a good idea. But you’re almost twenty-six; I’m not going to tell you what to do.”

Aiba’s heart sinks. It sounds like his parents aren’t very supportive of his decision.

“Why Japan, though?” asks Aiba’s mother. “Why can’t you do it here?”

“Singapore isn’t the best place to study something like animal keeping. You know the market is oriented differently here. Going to a professional training college in Japan is the easiest, least expensive way to get certified.”

Aiba’s mother falls quiet. It takes a few seconds before she speaks again. “How long is the course?”

“Most schools require two years,” says Aiba, and his heart speeds up because he suddenly knows what she’s going to say next.

“And you’ll come back after two years?” is her question, as predicted.

This conversation went way, way better in Aiba’s head, but he forges on.

“I don’t know. I think there might be things in Japan that I want to do.” He understands her apprehension. Yuusuke is already overseas, and now Aiba is going to empty the nest, once and for all. It must feel terribly lonely to have both your children live so far away.

“I see.” His mother is keeping her expression carefully neutral. “Well, it’s not a bad thing, isn’t it?” She brightens, convincingly. “You’re Japanese, after all; it’s like salmon going home to spawn.”

“Why are you guys forever so fond of the spawning analogies—”

Aiba’s mother gives a loud gasp. “Is that it?” she says, suddenly excited. “Did you meet someone special during your trip to Japan?”

“That I’m going to spawn with?” Aiba snorts. “No.”

Aiba’s father starts to laugh. “You don’t have to disappoint her like that.” He gets up from the dining table and starts to stack up the empty dishes. “For what it’s worth, Masaki—we know you’ve always liked animals, and that’s mainly our fault—”

“Your _influence_ ,” Aiba corrects, but his father goes on.

“—but I can tell you’ve put quite a lot of thought into this. You have a vision.” He pauses to look at Aiba. “I’m not sure about your _choice_ ; but the _vision_ , I can understand.”

Aiba’s father has always attributed his success in life to passion, hard work and a little bit of luck; it’s a formula that he swears by, and Aiba knows that ultimately, his father will come to support him, because they subscribe to the same ideals.

“I feel that I should do it,” says Aiba resolutely. “I don’t want to wait until I’m thirty-five or something, and regret not doing it.”

His parents exchange another look.

“Then you should take the chance, while you’re still young,” Aiba’s father finally says. “Just so you know, though—if you ever, ever need help in the money department while you’re there, just ask.”

“We said the same thing to Yuusuke,” says Aiba’s mother gently. “This isn’t us trying to say you’re not going to make it.”

Aiba nods. He’s touched, really. “Thank you.”

They’re great parents. They always have been. Aiba thinks it’s partly because they’re actually really young for parents of two men in their mid-twenties; the struggles of Aiba’s generation aren’t too far away from their own. Aiba’s grandparents had passed away when his father was a teenager, and they left him enough money not only to put him through university, but also to start a family early. So Aiba’s parents married young—Aiba’s father was still in university when he proposed to Aiba’s mother, and they had Aiba when they were both 23.

His parents are still in their prime, Aiba knows, and that makes him feel a bit better about leaving.

Later, Aiba types up an email to Nino. He hasn’t told Nino about his decision to apply for schools in Japan. He will tell him now.

It’s early December, so Aiba has two application windows instead of the usual four, once in January and the last in February, if he wants to start in 2009. Any later and he's going to have to wait a year. From now on, amidst the administrative tedium of quitting his job and serving his one month's notice, it's going to be a frantic scramble to get the necessary paperwork done, and once that's done he's going to have to study for the entrance exam. He’s got his work cut out for him—most of his secondary and tertiary education was in English, so he has to learn the terms for a lot of things in Japanese. Kanji was never his strong suit; he’s worried. 

Aiba sends out the email.

Aiba knows there’s definitely a part of him that’s returning to Japan for Nino. Largely he’s returning to fulfil his dream of becoming a zookeeper—which is actually an endeavour also related to Nino, since it was Nino who brought it up—and maybe also to learn how to pilot a boat, since planes and trains are out of the question, and he already knows how to drive a car. There’s a lot from Aiba’s childhood that he hasn’t yet done, a lot of things meeting Nino again is making him want to do, and he feels that it’s time.

***

It’s 10:02 PM in Singapore. It’s also a Wednesday. Nino has to do some live music show tonight, but he says live broadcasts always end on time and has thus scheduled a video call with Aiba at 11 PM Tokyo time. He's late.

Aiba is feeling oddly nervous as he twiddles his thumbs in his chair, staring at the open Skype application on his screen. He didn’t say much in his email to Nino: just that he's going to apply to a few professional training colleges in Tokyo, and even if he doesn’t get accepted anywhere he’s going to be in Japan by mid-January to make the application process. Nino had taken a day to reply, asking Aiba if they could meet online. He hasn’t addressed Aiba’s intention to return.

Then the Skype ringtone comes bubbling through the speakers, and Aiba straightens in his seat, realising he isn’t nervous—he’s _excited_. They haven’t talked to each other since they said goodbye at Nino's door three weeks ago. He’s missed him.

"It seems so sudden," says Nino, soon after they've exchanged greetings. "I mean, I just saw you last month and you never mentioned it."

"The idea struck me on the plane. I've always wanted to be a zookeeper, remember?"

"Yeah, but why only now?"

Aiba shrugs. "Why not now?"

Nino pauses. "Fair enough," he concedes, nodding. “So it’s a two-year course?”

“Yup. Two years, full-time, training college. Those are the only ones I’m looking at. I don’t want to do undergrad again.”

“The schools are in Tokyo?”

“Yeah, mostly around Tokyo. There’s one in Chiba. I’m hoping to go to that one most, actually. It’s the best one in the area.”

“Oh—I’m guessing you’re gonna live with your grandaunt?” asks Nino. He knows Aiba has a grandaunt, the one who ended up taking care of all their pets when his dad started moving around for his job. She’s the only relative Aiba has left on his dad’s side.

Aiba shakes his head. “After the last of our pets died she sold the house and moved away to live with her eldest son. They’re in Osaka.”

“So where are you going to live if it all works out?”

“Somewhere cheap, I suppose. Whatever I can afford on my savings and the part-time job I’m planning to have.”

Nino crooks his forefinger and presses it to the side of his nose. He spends a few seconds thinking, then:

“Do you want to come live with me?”

“Live with you?” Aiba’s heart does a little skip. “But you’re… this.” Aiba splays the fingers on one hand and makes a wild gesture in Nino’s direction as he sings a line from People’s debut song.

Nino lifts his eyebrows. “What? Idols can’t have roommates?”

Aiba takes a deep breath, considering. “You’re serious?”

“Completely serious. Alternatively, if I asked I’m sure my mum will let you stay at her place, but I have a feeling you’d be more at home at mine.”

“Yeah.” Aiba is tempted to take on Nino’s offer. Not just because it promises a huge discount; he's never lived alone before and thinks companionship will help him transition easier. “How much will the rent be if I live with you, though?”

Nino looks surprised. “I’m not gonna ask you to pay rent.” He almost scoffs. “You’re my best friend, Aiba-kun.”

“Your one true love,” murmurs Aiba, doing the numbers in his head. The amount he'll save is significant, if he gets to room at Nino’s with zero rent. Still, Aiba doesn't want to cash in on Nino's kindness just like that.

Nino gives a noncommittal wave. “That too, but yeah—no rent, okay?”

“I can’t just be a freeloader.”

“I don’t need the money.” Nino scoots forward in his chair. His face looks enormous now. “I don’t want to sound contrary to the scrooge I portray in the media,” he says in a low voice, “but I’ve never made so much money in my life; sometimes I don’t know what I’m going to do with all of it.”

Aiba laughs. “Right. I hear you. But at least let me give you _something_. You know how awkward I get when I feel like I owe someone.”

“Fine. You can help pay the utilities.” Nino shrugs. “Cook for me every now and then. I dunno. You’ll find a way.”

Aiba sighs, feeling his heart give. “It'll really help if you let me stay for the two years, actually. After I find permanent employment I'll move, okay? I don't want to trouble you.”

"We'll talk about that when it comes to it," says Nino. "Just let me know when you have a date and I'll get the paperwork done."

"Thank you." Aiba draws back to give a slight bow. “Please take care of me.”

“Oh, come on,” complains Nino at the formality, but he’s grinning.

It’s a funny feeling, Aiba decides later that night after he tells his parents of Nino’s decision to share his home, to be the roommate of one of Japan’s biggest stars. His sojourn at Nino’s place in November was fun, but living with Nino might yield new discoveries. Not all of them may be great, either; doesn’t familiarity breed contempt? Won’t Aiba actually be privy to things like Nino’s bathroom routine, his surprisingly simple Wi-Fi password, or his air-conditioner preferences?

Aiba sighs in wonder as he realises he already is.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title interpreted from Aiba-chan's solo: Friendship. I translated the lyrics of the part that I named this chapter after:
> 
> 溢れてるこの胸の中 In this heart, so full  
> 叶えたい夢の模様には of the shapes of the dreams I wish to fulfil,  
> 感動的な君の泣き笑う顔も映ってる I see your face, as you cry and laugh, so moved.  
> どこまでも追いかけて行こう No matter where you go, I'll run after you.  
> 笑えない事もあるけど Even though there are things we can't laugh about...  
> 運命的な出会い This fateful encounter -  
> あの日からちっとも変わらない夢 Is a dream that has stayed exactly the same since the day we met.


	4. Just a perfect little distance

For the most part, living with Nino isn't terribly exciting. Aiba is spending most of his time studying; Nino has to go to work, and when he’s at home gaming is definitely prioritised higher than hanging out with Aiba. Granted, they’re not mutually exclusive: Aiba games with Nino whenever he can, and they have a lot of fun together.

Life with Nino isn’t dull at all.

Nino comes home with a block of tuna one night. It's raw, for sashimi, and Aiba is delighted when Nino says it's all for him, since Nino doesn't take raw fish. When Aiba asks where it's from, Nino says, very simply, that Ohno went on a location shoot, and they share a laugh. In the media, Ohno’s been caricatured as the sleepy guy who likes art and fishing, and according to Nino it isn't far from the truth at all, which makes it funnier.

Another day, it's two in the morning and Nino comes home hopelessly drunk. Aiba is up studying at the dining table, and he rushes over when he sees Nino knock down the umbrella stand and the clock on top of the shoe cupboard as he comes stumbling through the door. Aiba catches him before he hits the floor, finding out Nino went out for drinks with a new friend, a rakugo artist, and ended up having too much fun.

Apart from the lack of coordination, this version of Nino is really quiet and mellow, like he's in energy conservation mode. Aiba parks him on his bed, and he just sits there with his eyes closed, unmoving and silent. Aiba brings him a glass of water, gives him a wet towel to wipe his face, gets him into his pyjamas and basically puts him to bed. Nino retains enough sense to utter instructions for the morning; the words are slurred, but Aiba doesn't actually need to be told: he plugs Nino's phone into the charger by his bed, making sure the ringer is on so Nino's manager's morning call would get through. By the looks of it, Nino is only going to work in the afternoon; he wouldn't have dared to let himself go like this otherwise.

Aiba has never had to deal with a Nino this drunk before. It's kind of strange, but also kind of nice; there's something about being able to take care of Nino that Aiba likes.

Shenanigans with Nino aside, Aiba has also been successful at finding a part-time job. He got lucky; he’d created a Facebook account (for his parents to keep up with his adventures in Japan), which reconnected him with one of his old classmates he met in Taiwan. She married a Japanese and is currently living in Tokyo, and when she heard Aiba was looking for part-time work, she told him the international daycare her son goes to is always looking for teachers, and set up an interview for him. It’s in Azabu-higashi, a stone’s throw from where Nino’s apartment is, and Aiba was apprehensive about it at first because the only experience he has working with children was teaching kids 10 and up how to swim, but during the interview he was assured he wouldn’t be thrown into the deep end should he be hired. A few days later he was offered the position of teacher’s assistant, which is perfect for him and still pays more than what he would be paid as a convenience store clerk or a waiter at a restaurant.

Aiba now spends his weekends learning that little children can be just as monstrous as they are magical, and there is an unimaginable amount of work that goes into nurturing them. Dealing with their parents is also an art in itself, and Aiba is learning a lot from his more experienced co-workers. It’s radically different from what he used to do back in Singapore—no more working in labs and presenting research findings—and he feels privileged to be able to garner all these new skills. The move to Japan is proving to be a sound decision.

In April, Aiba starts school, so he can only work Sundays at the daycare since there is school on Saturdays for the first semester. The commute is over an hour, which takes some getting used to, but it’s still cheaper than renting an apartment in Chiba; Aiba is grateful for Nino’s generosity.

There is a lot to learn in very little time, and one side-effect of using his brain so much is that Aiba is hungry _all day_. He quickly realises convenience store food isn't doing his body much good, and it’s kind of expensive, so he starts making his own meals and snacks. Nino notices this and draws up a budget for Aiba's groceries; they don't get into a fight per se, but Aiba adamantly rejects the offer and insists he has to be the one paying for his own meals. Nino lobbies a simple solution: Aiba can cook Nino's meals as well. Not all of them, since Nino’s schedule can be quite unpredictable, but he’ll inform Aiba in as far advance as possible. Aiba gives in.

"When did you learn how to cook, if you've never lived alone?" asks Nino one evening.

“My mum," says Aiba, tasting the broth he's about to braise some root vegetables in. "I pretty much became an only child in Singapore, and my mother found it important to bond with me. We’d make stuff, take pictures, and email it to Yuusuke. He’d then reply with pictures of stuff he cooked. It became somewhat of a competition.” Aiba smiles at the memory. “We eventually dropped out because Yuusuke was levelling-up with his job and getting too good for us, but by then cooking became something fun to do even alone.” Aiba gives an approving nod at the broth, finding it satisfactory. “Could you pass me the vegetables?” asks Aiba, pointing at the bowl that’s by the sink behind Nino.

Nino hands the bowl over. ”Do you make hamburg steak?"

"I could if you want me to."

Nino gives a maddeningly adorable grin. "I want you to.”

So Aiba looks up a recipe and makes hamburg steak, Nino takes it to work, and a nosy TV station person notices it and feeds the information to some tabloid reporter who goes on to publish three pages of lies in their online magazine replete with out-of-context pictures about how Nino is living with a woman.

Everybody close to Nino at work doesn't want to interfere in his private affairs, but the internet backlash is getting ugly and finally the agency asks Nino if he could consider making a statement. Nino tells them, disgustedly, that he’s not going to make a statement about a packed lunch.

And that's how Aiba finds out Nino has kept his moving in a secret.

"You didn't tell your agency?" asks Aiba when Nino reveals what has gone down.

“They don’t have to know. This is part of my personal life.”

“So no one knows?”

“My mother does," says Nino. “Which means my sister probably knows. The landlord knows. And I was going to tell the other members eventually. Soon.”

Aiba pulls his knees closer to him as he peers at Nino from his end of the coffee table. “But what’s the big deal about telling the press you have a roommate? That’ll just chase away the rumours quicker, right?”

“They’ll find a way to spin the story anyway. It’s not worth the trouble. I’ll just tell them I’m making my own lunch now. Wonder what’s so unbelievable that they didn’t assume that in the first place,” grumbles Nino.

“Uh, because you’re so blatant about the hours you devote to gaming?” suggests Aiba. Nino rolls his eyes, unable to refute the truth. At least he’s smiling.

“So you’re not going to do anything?” asks Aiba.

“Yeah. It’ll blow over,” says Nino. He then looks off to the side, gaze hardening. Aiba waits.

After a long minute, Nino speaks. “You might think it’s better to say something, but trust me—it’ll be yesterday’s news in no time. I just don’t want to give too much away. Everyone knows everything about us.” Nino sounds tired. “Me and the other members... We don't falsify our personalities or anything like that. This is who we are, and we can't help it. It's working for us professionally, and that's good, but sometimes it's scary.” Nino meets Aiba’s eyes. “Keeping it real means real stuff gets dug up. Things about our families, things we’re not proud of, things that could really ruin us if interpreted the wrong way. There are lies, sure, but a lot of truth as well. And that bugs me. It’s really nobody’s business but our own. That’s why we cling on to our privacy like that. Every trivial bit.”

Aiba has never really thought of himself as part of Nino’s ‘business’, but now that he’s living with Nino he’s fallen into that category. It is with stark clarity that Aiba realises something as innocent as making a packed lunch to show some gratitude can blow up into something else entirely when you’re part of an idol’s business. He doesn’t like the feeling very much. It’s like he’s an inconvenience. Neither he nor Nino meant for it to be this way, but apparently that’s how this particular world works.

For a brief moment Aiba thinks about moving out.

“Don’t overthink,” says Nino, reading Aiba’s silence. “You have nothing to do with this.”

“I made the food,” Aiba points out.

“I brought it out,” says Nino.

Aiba considers this. “Why, though? You never did that before.”

Nino shrugs, but Aiba can see the pink that's suddenly colouring his cheeks. “Just felt like it.”

Nino’s behaviour is mysterious; Aiba doesn’t pursue it.

That conversation ends there, and they move on to talking about Nino’s next project. He’s going to Kyoto the following week to film a movie and will be there most of the time, only coming back to Tokyo every other week to tape for People’s regular shows. The next time he starts living at his apartment properly will be in end-June. Aiba will pretty much have the place to himself for two whole months.

“You’ll be fine alone, Maa-kun?” asks Nino, his tone teasing.

“I won’t be alone, I’ll be partying every night,” promises Aiba, keeping a straight face. Nino laughs.

“You can have friends over if you want,” says Nino suddenly. “I realise we’ve never talked about that—you can invite them over anytime. As long as I’m not at home. And text me first?”

Aiba laughs. “You sound like a parent.”

“I’m serious.”

“Nah,” says Aiba, grinning, knowing Nino’s just worried he’ll be lonely. “I want to cling on to my bits of privacy too.”

***

A week into Nino’s absence, Aiba is visited by Jun.

Nino sent him a text message earlier in the day, telling him there’s a grey box by the computer in his hobby room that contains only thumb drives, and Jun wants to swing by to grab the one labelled ‘2007’ so would Aiba please buzz him up into the apartment to collect it?

“Hello, Matsujun,” says Aiba as he welcomes Jun into the home. He’s laid out a pair of slippers for Jun just in case he wants to come in and sit.

It’s eight in the evening. Jun is barefaced—but still handsome—and wearing a beanie, and looks completely taken off guard that it’s Aiba at the door.

“Nino said - I thought it was going to be his mother!” exclaims Jun, and he’s got on this enormous grin that Aiba finds infectious.

“I see he hasn’t told you guys about our living situation yet,” says Aiba, laughing. “Do you want to come in?”

Jun hesitates for a second. “I don’t want to trouble you.”

“No trouble at all,” says Aiba cheerfully. “Besides, there are a few thumb drives with ‘2007’ on them, and Nino hasn’t replied my text about which is the exact one, so I guess you have to look through the box yourself.”

Jun steps into the home, removing his beanie and giving a slight bow as he murmurs a greeting. Aiba asks him to make himself at home, and offers him coffee.

“That’d be great, thanks,” says Jun, perching himself on the sofa. He looks around the living room. “I’ve only been in here once. Hasn't changed much.”

In the kitchen, Aiba chuckles as he pours Jun coffee. “I don't think Nino's the redecorating sort.”

“True, but I figured since you’re living with him…”

Aiba brings the mug of coffee to the living room and puts out a coaster before placing the mug on it. He’s got a mug for himself too, minus the coaster.

“I’m only here for a couple of years, plus this is a rental, so I don’t see myself making any creative decisions,” says Aiba, smiling.

Jun seems very surprised at this. “A couple of years?”

The way Jun says it is like Aiba has missed something. “Yeah. I’m in Tokyo to study animal keeping, and Nino offered to house me until I’m gainfully employed.”

Jun blinks. Then his eyes turn wide, and his mouth rounds. Aiba offers him a quizzical look.

“Um, could I have a look at the thumb drives please?” says Jun quickly, recovering.

“Sure,” says Aiba, getting up to retrieve the box from Nino’s room, still feeling like he missed a memo.

Jun locates two thumb drives that are possibly the ones he needs—‘Tracks: 2007’ and ‘Ninomix 2007’—but he can’t be sure, so he asks if he can open the drives on a computer to check if he’s got the right one. Aiba says sure, and asks if Jun wouldn’t mind using his notebook.

“Of course not,” says Jun, and Aiba gets up from his seat again.

“Why did you think I was going to be Nino’s mother?” asks Aiba as he heads for the dining table, which currently also functions as his work desk.

“Hm?” Jun is puzzled, before he realises Aiba is talking about his comment from before. “Ah, Nino said his _attendant_ was going to meet me at his house.”

Aiba snorts, opening up the notebook on the coffee table. “He called me his attendant?”

“You know his sense of humour.”

“Yeah. I do.” Aiba laughs. “Did you really think he’d call his _mother_ his attendant?”

“I couldn’t put it past him.” Jun grins. “I mean, he’s so… insolent. Harmlessly so, but still.”

Aiba nods. “He gets away with it.”

“With his stupid, clever charm.”

They laugh, commiserating.

“I wish I had his charm,” says Aiba woefully, plugging in one of the thumb drives before looking at Jun. “I wish I had _your_ charm.”

Jun shakes his head, laughing. “You’re charming the way you are, Aiba-san.” He then pauses, holding Aiba’s gaze. “Nino’s told us a lot about you.”

Aiba frowns. “I thought you didn’t know I was living here.”

“I didn’t. I meant before we met at the concert last year.”

“Oh.” Aiba is surprised, until he remembers how Jun, Sho and Ohno had seemed to be rather interested in him even though he was, technically, a stranger.

“It’s kind of crazy to be in the same room with you. Talking to you.” Jun’s lips curve into a smile. He’s looking very gentle, and extremely fond. “To us, you’ve always been an existence: a precious, really major part of Nino’s life that sort of spilled over into ours, you know?”

Aiba doesn’t know. “What do you mean?”

Jun gives a sigh, but it’s not an unhappy one. “There were a few times we thought we couldn’t make it. As People, I mean. We talked about disbanding so many times, but every time we’d also go over the reasons why we should stay as a group. One of Nino’s reasons would always be you. He said he needed to find you first.”

“He did say he became an idol to reach out to me.” Aiba feels the heat rush to his cheeks as he says this aloud. He didn’t imagine it would make him this shy, but honestly… He doesn’t mind saying it to Jun. He can tell Jun and Nino are close; Nino loves his bandmates, they’re all close. Aiba can trust Jun with this information.

“He never gave up.” Jun leans back into the sofa, eyes drifting. “Nino isn’t usually expressive with how determined he is about things, but the thing with you—he was always explicit about it. Sure, when we asked for his reason he’d say ‘Aiba-kun’ with this lazy, self-confident smirk, which meant the first couple times we groaned and didn’t take it seriously, but then he’d explain how you influenced his life, and by our third year we accepted ‘Aiba-kun’ as a legitimate reason for not disbanding. It was like a non-joke, if you get what I mean.”

Aiba does, and wonders what Nino told the members of People.

“I remember this one time,” Jun chuckles, “we were feeling particularly dejected during a concert tour; every show was full of empty seats, and our staff would try and cover them up with tarp so we couldn’t see them from the stage. They were being kind, but it just made us feel worse.”

Aiba makes a sympathetic noise. He knows People’s early years were kind of rough. Jun goes on.

“We were in some city far away from Tokyo, I can’t remember where, but I remember us huddled together in Leader’s hotel room, feeling miserable and useless and talking about quitting. I asked if we could list our reasons to continue, and for the longest time no one said anything; Sho-san then sighed and started talking about how we had a good run, but Leader suddenly interrupted and went: ‘Aiba-kun.’” Jun laughs at the memory. “Nino was _stunned_. But it had become one of those things, one of those constants that we had during those meetings. You signified hope, in a way. It was almost as if… Even if it seemed there wasn’t anything worth fighting for, there was still Nino’s Aiba-kun out there, waiting to be found by the powers of Nino’s stardom. The idea that we should stick together for this Aiba-kun that we hadn’t actually met became symbolic, so it’s no exaggeration when I say you practically helped keep People together.” Jun raises his mug to Aiba in a toast. “Thank you.”

***

Their tutor broke the class up into groups to discuss how to best quantify the effectiveness of animal welfare efforts, and Aiba’s group had so much fun during their discussion that they’ve decided to have lunch together when the period ends. Most of the students at Tokyo Wildlife College are in their late teens to early twenties; Aiba’s 26, the oldest student in their cohort, so they’ve nicknamed him ‘Aiba-senpai’.

“Aiba-senpai, are you married?” asks Karen, a wide-eyed 18-year-old with a penchant for coined words. She’s funny, and Aiba likes her.

“You don’t just open a conversation with that,” interrupts Inoo, their classmate. Inoo is one of those people who’s great at reading the atmosphere but also isn’t afraid to speak their mind—he also has his own brand of dirty jokes, which often happen when they’re having practical lessons and have to examine the animals. Aiba sometimes doesn’t know how to react to them.

“I’m not married.” Aiba pauses to answer before he takes a sip of his soup. “Why?”

“You seem married,” says Karen around a mouthful of her salad. “You have a… wedded vibe.”

Aiba laughs at the odd expression.  “Just because I’m old?” teases Aiba.

“You’re not old,” says Suzu, the other girl in their group, as she splits her chopsticks. She’s very serious, but after talking to her today Aiba has found that she can be quite friendly after she warms up to company. “Twenty-five isn’t old.”

“He’s twenty-six,” Inoo points out.

“It’s a good age to get married,” says Karen wisely. “It’s either twenty-six or forty-two for me, I think?”

Inoo looks up from his curry rice to scrunch up his face at Karen, completely baffled. Aiba descends into a fit of giggles. He finds his classmates unbearably cute, and mourns for his youth a little bit. “I’m not considering marriage at the moment, though,” informs Aiba politely.

“But you do have a girlfriend?” asks Inoo innocently, and it’s so smooth that Aiba knows he’s been waiting for the chance to slide into the question.

“No, actually.”

“No way,” the three teenagers chorus.

Aiba raises his eyebrows. “Excuse me?”

They exchange looks. Suzu is the one who speaks first. “You’ve been smiling at your phone all morning,” she says.

Aiba blinks. “I have?” He thinks about this; Nino texted earlier saying he’s back in Tokyo and pretty sure he’ll be able to come home in time for dinner, so Aiba started planning the menu during the break between first and second period. He hasn’t been aware he was smiling while he was at it.

Aiba laughs. “My best friend, who’s also my roommate, is coming home from his business trip tonight. I haven’t seen him in a while, so I’m really looking forward to it.”

“Ah,” the other three say, nodding, and they go about their lunch and conversation without harping on Aiba and his relationship status. They do probe further about this roommate of Aiba’s, asking how they met, and then the conversation moves to whether friendships made in junior high last longer than the ones made in high school. It’s a topic they can all relate to, and as he looks around the table Aiba feels an overwhelming sense of relief—he has friends at school.

***

Aiba didn’t expect to feel this disappointed, but he does. He reads the text again, sighing quietly.

 _The director asked if I could do a night shoot since I’ll be taping in Tokyo all day tomorrow,_ is what Nino has sent. _I said okay. Have you bought anything for dinner?_

A sweat drop emoticon punctuates the end of that sentence, and Aiba resents it more than he should. A seat in front of him opens up, and Aiba lets go of the overhead strap to occupy it. He sheds his backpack that’s laden with fresh vegetables and several cuts of meat, and places it between his feet before looking at the lit panel above the train doors that tell him which stop is coming up. He’s got 15 more minutes to go on this ride.

Aiba has a habit of doing his grocery shopping nearby his school. He likes the quality and price of the products from the supermarkets in Chiba; Azabu-juuban’s supermarkets are kind of upscale. To be fair, there’s a wholesaler nearby with very friendly prices so sometimes Aiba would shop there, but there’s always leftover ingredients that he ends up freezing and then forgets about. He’s pretty much filled up the freezer compartment of Nino’s fridge, so shopping in Chiba on the way home, he’s figured, is the best option.

 _It’s fine,_ Aiba types up a reply to Nino, _I still have to cook for myself anyway. Work hard! I’ll see you soon, yeah?_

Aiba sends the message, slumps against the train seat, and reads Nino’s text again. He tries to tell himself it’s okay. He doesn’t really know where this bitterness is coming from. Nino didn’t ask him to make dinner; he volunteered. He’s had to carry a load of groceries heavier than usual all the way from Chiba, yes, but that was his choice. He spent all his breaks between classes planning the menu; that was all on him, too.

15 minutes later, the train pulls into Azabu-juuban Station. Aiba shoulders his bag and alights. As he walks down the platform he sees a poster of Nino in a beer ad, and it strikes him that it’s not about the groceries or the time spent planning the meal. How he’s feeling has nothing to do with dinner.

Aiba takes his eyes off the poster, swallows the lump in his throat and makes his way back to the empty apartment.

***

“Vivian Hsu!” calls Aiba, waving. Vivian spots him and waves back, excusing herself through the crowd to get to him.

It’s a Saturday, and they’ve decided to brave the weekend hordes at Disneyland. Vivian is in Japan with her parents, and she makes it a point to visit at least one of the Disney theme parks every time she comes; her parents aren’t interested in the park and told her to have fun while they go on their date to Hakone. She was going to go alone, but then remembered Aiba was in Japan now, so she asked him if he was interested to come along. It isn’t every day that Vivian is in town, so Aiba decided to skip school since Saturday classes all end by lunchtime anyway. He also feels in need of familiar company; Vivian’s timing is perfect.

“You said seven,” grumbles Aiba as Vivian comes closer, her hands pressed together in apology. “I got up at five!”

“Sorry, Aiba-chan. I slept through the alarm, and my parents had already left the room so there was no one to wake me up,” says Vivian, rubbing her palms as if to intensify her regret. “Really sorry.”

Thankfully, though she’s an hour late, they don’t have to queue for the tickets; Vivian has already bought them in advance from a Disney store. They join the queue to enter, and Aiba fishes out his wallet from his bag to pay Vivian. She gives him a nice discount to make up for being late—he welcomes it because he doesn’t work full-time anymore—and they start chatting about what’s up with their lives. They haven’t seen each other for about six months; the last time they met was at Tokyo Dome, during the People concert tour.

Vivian tells Aiba about her new job: it pays better, the commute is smoother, the work more interesting. She’s a public relations executive now—she used to be a copywriter—and her firm handles accounts for internationally-known brands and organisations. Aiba thinks it’s quite glamorous.

Vivian then asks Aiba to tell her more about the job at the daycare. She squeals and giggles and aww-s at the recounted antics of the kids, and when Aiba finishes the story about how one of the little boys at the daycare gave all the teachers tiny pebbles last weekend, making them promise to grow them into big pebbles, Vivian sighs contentedly.

“I can’t wait to have children of my own,” she declares.

“Seriously?” It’s the first time Aiba is hearing about this.

“Yeah. Have to get me a man first, though. I don’t think I’ll ever score Sho-kun, even though technically he’s now a friend of a friend.” Vivian then hesitates, rocking on her feet as she pulls on the straps of her backpack. “I wasn’t sure if I wanted to tell you, but I sorta went on a date with your brother?”

Aiba’s eyes grow wide. A smile spreads slowly across his face. “ _What._ ”

“It was so random!” blurts Vivian, fanning at her cheeks. She was holding the confession in, and now the dam has burst. “I’m in this Facebook group that connects Japanese speakers in Taipei and there was this meet-up… There was like, a hundred people there so Yuusuke-kun and I didn’t actually remember each other’s faces, but there was this group photo we took later that I was tagged in?”

Aiba throws back his head and laughs. “I can see where this is going.”

“Yeah so he must’ve checked out my profile and saw our mutual friends, because he messaged me with ‘oh my god you know my brother?’, and we started talking. We really hit it off online, so we decided to meet. It wasn’t a date-date, but it felt a little bit like one at the end?” Vivian flexes her fingers nervously. “Is it weird? That I’m now friends with your brother?”

“Vivian.” Aiba claps his hand on Vivian’s forearm, shaking his head in wonder. “The thought of introducing Yuusuke and you _has_ crossed my mind. I just never acted on it because playing matchmaker isn’t my thing.” Aiba pauses. “So you’re interested in him?”

Vivian turns red and slaps Aiba lightly on the arm. “You don’t just outright ask someone that!” she half-yells, suddenly switching to Mandarin. It makes Aiba laugh. Vivian might actually be into his brother, for real.

“I won’t tell him,” promises Aiba, raising three fingers in a swear.

“I don’t know,” confesses Vivian. “I really like him as a person?”

“You like _me_ as a person,” Aiba points out.

“You’re different,” Vivian gives an impatient wave, “you’re like my brother.”

“In-law?” teases Aiba.

“Oh my god, just stop,” groans Vivian, punching Aiba this time.

Aiba wants to continue mining Vivian’s agony—it’s so much fun—but out of the goodness of his heart, he decides to spare her. It does make him happy, however, to learn that Vivian has connected with someone, and that someone is his brother. It’s quite miraculous. Aiba can’t wait to tell Nino.

The moment he thinks this, his heart sinks. He hasn’t heard from Nino in a few days, not since Nino texted that evening saying he couldn’t come home for dinner. Aiba can only imagine how busy Nino is.

“So—where exactly are you staying in Tokyo?” Vivian changes the subject, unaware of Aiba’s thoughts. Aiba is about to reply when he realises he hasn’t told Vivian about his living situation. He’s not sure if he should tell her he’s sharing an apartment with Nino. Even during the November trip he didn’t tell her he was staying with Nino. It’s not that he doesn’t trust Vivian—she isn’t one to shoot her mouth off—but she _is_ a People fan, and Nino has been explicit about the kind of privacy he wishes to protect.

That said, Aiba is pretty sure Vivian knows him and Nino are good friends, and if he tells her he’s living in Azabu-juuban, she’ll pick up on how upper class it is and probe further.

"There's something - something with my roommate ... I can't really tell you where I live?” says Aiba feebly. “Sorry.”

Vivian blinks, then her face relaxes. “I’m not trying to find out Nino’s address.”

It’s Aiba’s turn to blink. How does she know?

Then it hits him: Yuusuke.

“I’m not going to tell anyone,” says Vivian.

“I know.” Aiba is quick to respond. “Really.”

“I’m just curious about your neighbourhood.”

Aiba nods. “It’s expensive.” He grins.

Vivian laughs. “Do you like living there, though?”

Aiba takes a few seconds to consider. He hasn’t really thought about it before; he likes how the apartment isn’t too far away from the train station and his workplace, and it’s right smack in the middle of the city so he’s pretty close to all the entertainment hotspots. Going to school is kind of a hassle, but the commute isn’t unreasonably expensive.

Most of all, he likes living with Nino.

“I do,” says Aiba definitely.

They make their way into the theme park, and discover Disneyland is every bit the treat it used to be, perhaps even more now that Aiba is an adult and doesn’t mind waiting for the rides. He’s brought along his textbook to do some revision, and as they settle into yet another queue, this time for a Peter Pan ride, Vivian watches him for a few moments before commenting:

“I’m impressed how patient you are. This is definitely not the Aiba-chan I was with at Tokyo Dome.”

Aiba remembers that day. There was no indication of when the wait would end; they’d been in line for hours before they got to buy People merchandise, and Aiba only had that one Nino uchiwa on his shopping list. He’d been so antsy he kept leaving Vivian alone in the queue so he could go to the toilet or the vending machine.

“It’s painful if you’re in a line and have nothing constructive to do,” says Aiba, tapping the page he’s on. “But I’m prepared for the wait, and besides,” he gestures to a sign nearby, “they tell you how many minutes until you get to go.”

“Fair enough,” Vivian grins, before taking out her camera. “Since the line isn’t moving anytime soon, let’s take pictures!”

“I’m kind of in the middle of something.” Aiba deadpans, pointing at his textbook. Vivian, however, is already catching the eye of a nearby Disneyland employee who’s happily polishing a dustbin, waving to him to come closer to the line to help them take their picture.

The man, all smiles and looking smart in his white uniform and ivory bowtie, walks up to Vivian and asks:

“May I help you?”

There is something familiar about this man’s demeanour; Aiba squints at the man’s face, trying to recall if they’ve met, before his eyes fall on the oval name-tag pinned to the front of the man’s shirt.

 _Shunsuke_.

“Kazapon?” cries Aiba.

The man, who’s holding Vivian’s camera, about to ask them to pose, freezes. He locks gazes with Aiba.

“Do I know you?” he asks, in doubt.

“Aiba Masaki,” says Aiba, jabbing a finger at himself.

“ _Aiba-kun_?” Kazama’s jaw drops. “You’ve gotten so good-looking, I couldn’t recognise you!”

Aiba giggles, embarrassed. “You’ve not changed a bit, though. You look exactly the same!”

Vivian throws up her hands. “Really?” she says, turning to face Aiba. "First Nino, now a Disneyland cast member? How is it you’re friends with all the people I want to be friends with?”

“It’s so nice to see you, Aiba-kun,” says Kazama warmly, squeezing Aiba’s elbow.

“Same.” Aiba grins. “God, it’s been… Twelve years? Sorry I haven’t been in touch.”

“Oh, no, no,” says Kazama, shaking his head, “I told you I’d call, but I never really did.”

“It’s crazy that we’re meeting in Disneyland, though! The place is huge!” Aiba laughs.

“Not that crazy,” says Kazama, grinning. “You do remember I’m a huge Disney fan, right?”

Aiba snaps his fingers, recalling. “We watched so many Disney movies together at your house. Do you remember the time we kept pretending we weren’t crying during Bambi?”

“I do.” Kazama laughs, then gestures to Vivian politely. “Is this your girlfriend?”

“No!” Aiba and Vivian are quick to deny. “She’s actually going out with my brother,” explains Aiba, earning another punch on the shoulder.

“I’m not,” says Vivian hotly. “We’re just friends.”

“It’s complicated,” says Aiba to Kazama apologetically.

“Oh my god _it is not_ ,” Vivian almost shouts. Aiba just cackles.

“You guys get along really well, huh?” says Kazama, grinning.

“Oh, right. Kazama-kun, this is Vivian, my best friend from uni. She’s Taiwanese.” Aiba starts the introduction. “Vivian, this is Kazama Shunsuke, my best friend from elementary school. We kinda fell out of touch after I moved to Iwate,” explains Aiba to Vivian.

“Nice to meet you,” says Vivian, bowing.

“I want to catch up, but I’m at the start of my workday,” Kazama tells Aiba apologetically.

“We should keep in touch,” says Aiba, and starts patting his pockets for a pen, but Kazama takes a Mickey Mouse-shaped memo pad out of his pocket, and clicks the Goofy head on his pen so Aiba can write with it.

As Aiba is writing down his phone number and email address, Vivian points to the camera in Kazama’s hands. “We should all take a picture together,” she suggests.

“A quick one,” Kazama agrees, “since the line is moving soon.” He seems to be quite the expert at taking a selfie, because he gets into frame and snaps a perfect picture of the three of them.

“I’ll text you,” says Kazama to Aiba as he hands the memo pad back to him. Aiba says he’ll be waiting, and the line starts moving, so Kazama waves them off, and heads back to his dustbin.

“What happened?” asks Vivian, when they stop in the line again.

“What do you mean?”

“Between you and that guy.” Vivian points her chin at Kazama, who’s walking towards another section of the park. “What’s it this time? You lost his address too?”

Aiba laughs. “We lost contact, that’s all. We were just kids back then, we didn’t understand the importance of keeping good friends close.” Aiba smiles, opening his textbook once more. “What are the odds? I keep getting my friends back.”

“You’re really lucky.” Vivian murmurs. “And he was really friendly.”

There’s something in Vivian’s voice that seems a little off, and Aiba looks up from his book to see Vivian eyeing him.

“What?” asks Aiba.

“I don’t know, but I had a feeling that Kazama guy was sort of… coming on to you.”

“Huh?”

“You didn’t notice it?” asks Vivian. “The way he complimented you, the way he squeezed your arm?”

Aiba splutters. “I - I don’t think - _what_?”

Vivian crosses her arms over her chest, still surveying Aiba. “To him, you’re a reasonably attractive man, hanging out at Disneyland with a lady whom you vehemently stated isn’t your girlfriend, and you just reconnected, exchanging contact details—doesn’t this make you available?”

“Vivian, we were kids when we knew each other.”

“So? It doesn’t mean the attraction started back then. Neither does it mean it didn’t.”

“I don’t think Kazama-kun is - He doesn’t look—”

Vivian holds up a finger. “I’m not going to let you say it. You can’t tell who’s what just by how they look. Everyone has a story.” Vivian pauses, her lips parting as she gives a soft gasp.

Aiba looks at her suspiciously. “What?”

Vivian touches Aiba’s arm and asks, solemnly:

“What’s _your_ story, Aiba-chan?”

***

Dinner with Kazama is fun with a lot of reminiscing, and updates on each other’s families. Kazama left Sendai straight after high school, for the sole purpose of working at Disneyland. It doesn’t earn him much, he confesses, but he’s happy. Aiba is happy for him.

Aiba is also glad to learn Kazama’s parents are well, although his mum was diagnosed with breast cancer a few years ago, and is currently in remission. Kazama’s elder sister is still living with their parents, and it gives him some peace of mind that she’s there. Aiba gets it, and admits he feels guilty that his parents are alone in Singapore, but Kazama reminds him they aren’t technically alone if they have each other. They’re still young, Kazama says, and Aiba does find comfort in his words.

They’re hanging out at an izakaya near Kasai Station. Kazama lives a block away. It isn’t a fancy part of Tokyo, but Aiba likes how homely it feels, and how green it is. He mentions this, which makes Kazama ask him why he’s living in Minato-ku.

Aiba explains he’s living with a rather well-off friend who’s letting him live rent-free for two years. Kazama is impressed when he hears how big the apartment is, and jokingly asks Aiba to take him there someday. Aiba remembers Nino saying it’s okay if Aiba wants to bring friends over, as long as he isn’t at home. Aiba hadn’t actually wanted to do so, but this is _Kazapon_ they’re talking about.

“You can come,” says Aiba. He checks his watch. It’s not that late. “It’s forty minutes away, though.”

Still chewing, Kazama raises a fist in front of his mouth. “You sure? I mean, it’s your friend’s place…”

“Yeah. He’s given me the okay. Besides, he’s on a business trip and isn’t going to be home until next week,” says Aiba, and there it is again: that astringent bitterness, that resentment of Nino’s absence. Aiba quickly pushes it away.

“Then I want to go,” says Kazama swiftly, looking quite excited. “I’ve never seen the inside of a rich person’s house before!”

Aiba laughs. “It’s not incredibly fancy. Don’t be too disappointed if it doesn’t live up to your expectations.”

They get the bill, and chat the entire journey back to Aiba’s place. Kazama is a great listener, and is encouraging when Aiba confides in him about being afraid that he can’t catch up with his younger, more energetic classmates. The workload is also a lot more than he expected; there’s so much material to cover in a two-year course. Kazama tells him not to worry: he’s the only one in class who’s been there, done that—Aiba’s gone to uni and made it out safely; he’s got experience points. Aiba has never looked at it that way—or maybe in the thick of things he’s just forgotten he could rely on that part of his past—and almost tears up in the train at Kazama’s words. There’s something reassuring about Kazama. He’s so easy to talk to, just like Nino is. They’re very different people, but they both make Aiba feel safe.

“What’s your friend’s name?” asks Kazama as he steps into the apartment. He looks around curiously as the lights come on. Aiba finds this adorable. Kazama’s like a small animal.

“He’s, uh…” Aiba is on the verge of saying ‘Nino’, but decides against it. If he doesn’t want to be around when Aiba’s friends are, Aiba shouldn’t bring him into the picture. “Kazu-kun,” says Aiba to Kazama finally. “He’s a friend from junior high.”

“Wait—junior high? Do I know him?”

“You don’t.” Aiba smiles. “I got to know him in Iwate.”

Kazama’s eyes grow wide as he takes off his shoes and steps into the living room. “The entire place is carpeted!” he says, bouncing on the floor. “This is cool.”

Aiba takes Kazama on a short tour of the apartment. He lets Kazama take a peek into Nino’s hobby room, where there are a few guitars, an iMac connected to a digital keyboard, and a low sofa in front of a TV that’s on a console with tons of games stuffed in the drawers. “He’s a musician, and he loves games,” says Aiba, picking the safest explanation before steering Kazama away from the room. Nino is very proud of his hobby room so he wouldn’t have a problem with Aiba showing it to Kazama, but nowadays Aiba doesn’t like looking at the room without Nino in it. It irks him.

Aiba doesn’t show Kazama Nino’s bedroom, but he does show him his. Kazama comments on how sparsely furnished the room is; Aiba explains how Kazu-kun had asked if he needed a desk, but Aiba pointed out the dining table was larger and Kazu-kun wasn't using it much anyway, so he’d just use the dining table as his desk, if that was okay. Kazu-kun said sure, so Aiba’s room currently only has a closet and a bed. A growing stack of books and papers line the wall at the foot of his bed, making the way to the windowed wall very narrow; as he leads Kazama to that side of the room, Aiba thinks it might be time to get a shelf for his study materials.

“Wow,” says Kazama as Aiba pulls up the roman blinds, “you can see Tokyo Tower from here. This is really pretty.”

“It’s a perk of living on the twenty-first floor,” says Aiba, laughing.

“Hey,” says Kazama, and Aiba is just wondering why Kazama suddenly looks so serious when he leans in and kisses Aiba on the lips.

Time seems to grind to a halt as Aiba tries to process what is happening. If he’s interpreting this right, Kazama is probably as gay as Vivian had implied he was.

Aiba gently pushes on Kazama’s shoulders and turns away, embarrassed. He doesn’t really know what to say, or what to do, so he just stops moving, collecting his senses.

Neither of them speak for a while.

“I’m sorry,” says Aiba, finally meeting Kazama’s eyes. He takes his hands off Kazama’s shoulders. “I… I didn’t mean to send you the wrong message.”

Kazama shakes his head, recovering surprisingly fast. “I’m sorry. I wasn’t sure either, but thought I’d try anyway.” He laughs, looking sheepish. “This isn’t the first time this has happened. You have no idea how many guys in this city are capable of leading me on. Oh wait,” Kazama rolls his eyes skyward, “that means it’s probably me.” He pats Aiba’s arm, still grinning. “Don’t feel bad, okay?” 

Aiba feels bad anyway. Kazama is being _so_ nice. “I’m sorry,” he says again.

“Don’t be.” Kazama waves. “So—are we going to share an awkward goodbye, or are you going to serve me coffee before I go?”

Aiba manages a smile. “I did promise you coffee.”

Kazama goes to sit in the the living room, and Aiba retreats to the kitchen, alone with his thoughts. He’s wondering about what Vivian asked him a couple of days ago: what _is_ his story?

He’s been intimate with two women. His first girlfriend was his high school classmate, also foreign with parents stationed in Taipei. Her name was Latika, and they’d been good friends for a couple of years before he asked her out. He liked her a lot, but thinking back, it was probably the general excitement of being at an age when everyone was pairing up and him being curious about how it felt like, that led to them being together. Theirs was an eight-month long relationship that ended when they realised they weren’t actually in love with other, just ‘in like’, as Latika put it. Still, they remained friends, though they fell out of touch after graduation.

His second relationship happened four years later in university. Aiba was quite popular on campus—firstly because he wasn’t local, so people tended to get curious when they saw his name and would always try to find out how who the Japanese guy was; and also because of his looks. He was, according to certain standards of a certain online jury who deemed him first runner-up of a campus-wide talent-scouting event, good-looking. (Aiba couldn’t be objective about things like that. He thought he looked _okay_ , especially when compared to his brother. Yuusuke was the better-looking Aiba of their generation. That, he was always sure of.)

But it was through this popularity that he found out he didn’t like the part where girls would ask him out, even though they hadn’t even met before. It made him terribly nervous. He’d be nice and exchange numbers with them, but he’d always pray they’d never call. Sometimes they did, and he never really knew what to say. It wasn’t that he was socially awkward or anything. It was that the girls’ motives were plain—they wanted to be more than friends—which stressed him a great deal. 

He confided all of this in a friend, Mahiru, the daughter of one of his father’s coworkers. He’d known her since they were children—their fathers were close friends—and she had moved to Singapore earlier than Aiba did. Naturally, since Aiba’s family was in Singapore as well, their families started hanging out more often. They even lived in the same neighbourhood. Through Aiba’s airing of campus woes Mahiru became a very good friend despite being five years older, and he started to see her as somewhat of a sister figure. They chatted online almost every day, and would text each other about the most mundane of things. Aiba found her extremely easy to talk to.

It was a while later that Mahiru confessed she had feelings for Aiba, and asked if he would consider starting a relationship with her. Aiba gave it a lot of thought; he wasn’t sure he could be a good boyfriend to Mahiru since she seemed so grownup. Still, he realised he did like her very much, and wanted to be closer to her, so he decided to give it a try.

The thing with Mahiru was that she expected a lot of Aiba. Things changed between them after they got together. She wasn’t the sisterly, advice-giving person from before, not always at least. Aiba understood; their relationship dynamic was different now. But Aiba had school: there were always papers to write, project meetings to attend, labs to run. Mahiru wanted more of Aiba’s time, and he couldn’t seem to give it. She would come hang out at his place after work—they lived across the street from each other—but it was always distracting for him because he’d feel bad that she was just sitting there, after a hard day at the office, and he wasn’t actually interacting with her but typing up an essay or doing something else academic.

Aiba sometimes tried to make up for it with sex, which was probably a mistake in and of itself, because it formed the basis of their breakup. It wasn’t his favourite thing to do, but she seemed to like it and that made him want it because he loved her, but apparently that wasn’t enough. Aiba wasn’t passionate enough, didn’t need her enough, wasn’t honest enough with his feelings. These were the things Mahiru called him out for, and after a huge row, they broke up.

Mahiru later apologised for saying all those mean things when they were quarrelling, but she didn’t want to continue the relationship. She wasn’t sure if they could still be friends, but for their parents’ sake she didn’t mind trying. Aiba was hurt that things had to end like that, but he agreed that their parents, who knew they were together, would be devastated if they never spoke to each other again, so he would try too.

Time passed, and wounds healed. By the time Aiba started working, Mahiru had found someone else, and the last Aiba heard, she was happily married to someone she’d met on a boating trip.

Because of Latika and Mahiru, Aiba has always thought he was attracted to women. But now that he’s actually had a brush with the same sex, he wonders if there’s more to his sexuality than black and white. It strikes him that he’s never considered there’s any choice for him but women. He touches his lips, thinking about the kiss Kazama just gave him. It hadn’t felt right _emotionally_ , but it wasn’t like he was physically repulsed by it. Maybe it could even have been okay, under other circumstances.

The possibility of him being okay with men—it’s a novel concept.

“Are you okay in there?” asks Kazama from outside the kitchen. Aiba realises he’s been standing at the counter for minutes now, and he hasn’t done anything. He reaches for the coffee filters.

“I’m fine!” he says, cracking open the lid of the coffee maker to nestle the filter in. “Be out in a bit.”

The question is—why didn’t Aiba feel anything for Kazama when he kissed him? Would that count as him not being attracted to men, after all? It prompts him to ask: had he _felt_ anything for the women he’s been with? He realised he couldn’t be a hundred per cent sure for Latika, because he’d been so young, but Mahiru… Yes, he probably loved her. But he didn’t always enjoy being intimate with her, so what was up with that?

“Yo.” It’s Kazama, and he’s hanging around at the entrance, watching Aiba prepare the coffee. “You’re not angry, I hope?”

“Angry?” Aiba blinks. “Of course not. Why?”

“Because I made things weird between us with the kiss?”

Aiba appreciates Kazama’s candour, but it still makes him blush. “You didn’t make things weird. Don’t say that.”

“So what is it?” Kazama sticks his hands in his pockets, sighing.

“What is what?”

“You’re obviously bothered,” says Kazama. “You’ve been in the kitchen fifteen minutes and you haven’t even started the coffee machine.”

Aiba hits the button. “There. I’ve started it.” He stares at Kazama, a thought forming. “Kazapon,” Aiba steels himself, “have you always known you like men?”

Kazama takes a moment to answer. “Not until I started junior high.”

Aiba frowns. “But I was there when you started junior high.”

“Yeah.” Kazama gives Aiba pointed look. “You were how I knew.”

Aiba’s mouth falls open. Kazama grins, then nods. “Yeah. Totally had a crush on you.”

“But I - I didn’t…” Aiba groans. “I’m so sorry, Kazapon.”

Kazama laughs. “It’s not as if you could’ve done anything about it!”

“I could’ve been nicer to you,” says Aiba. “Like, I don’t know, supported your orientation.”

“Oh, god, no.” Kazama chuckles. “I was deep in the closet back then. Denial was one of the reasons that made me decide not to write or call you more. I missed you so much, it was pretty bad. I tried really hard to forget you.”

“You know this isn’t making me feel great, right?”

“It’s all in the past.” Kazama smiles. “That’s why I can talk about it like that.”

“You’re really brave.”

“You’re braver,” Kazama laughs, “for asking me straight to the face.”

“Yeah, about that,” Aiba takes a deep breath, “I asked because I hoped you’d have some answers for someone who’s questioning.”

Kazama’s expression shifts. “About whether or not they’re gay?”

Aiba shakes his head. “About whether or not they’re normal.”

Kazama looks concerned. “First up, I personally don’t believe there’s actually a ‘normal’, but go on.”

They have some time before the coffee is done, so they talk. Aiba opens up to Kazama about his past relationships, and how he thinks he’s always been more comfortable being friends with people than lovers with them. Kazama points out that that’s perfectly okay, until Aiba manages to figure out that for him, it’s not.

“I don’t want to just be friends,” says Aiba, finally able to put it into words. “But I don’t want to have to do all the relationship stuff either.”

“Elaborate on ‘relationship stuff’.”

So Aiba tells Kazama about what really wrecked his relationship with Mahiru, how she’d found him inadequate, and Kazama is sympathetic. They stand there in the kitchen, going over the key points, and finally Kazama says something absolutely illuminating.

“Maybe you’re in a grey area, Aiba-chan.”

“What grey area?”

“You’ve never heard of it?” Kazama looks surprised. “Didn’t you study life sciences? Surely you would’ve come across sexuality as being a spectrum, or how fluid it is?”

“Well, yeah, but it wasn’t a huge topic.”

“So you didn’t pay attention?”

“There wasn’t any discourse to pay attention to.” The coffee maker beeps, and Aiba grabs two mugs from above the sink. “If I were in social sciences, maybe. But I studied the environment, Kazapon. Population ecology. Cell biology. There was even an unbelievable amount of maths involved. We didn’t talk about stuff like that in our department.”

“Damn. I work at Disneyland, but even _I’ve_ heard of grey sexuality.”

“Explain it, then,” says Aiba, tone challenging.

Kazama confesses he isn’t an expert or anything, but what he’s learnt is that there are people who identify as the in-betweens, people who aren’t easily labelled. And, as far as he can tell, Aiba might be confused between what’s sexual attraction, and what’s romantic attraction. Then there’s desire and arousal, and they’re apparently all different.

Aiba puts down his coffee mug. “There’s a difference?”

“To be honest, I can’t always differentiate them. There’s a lot of overlap for me. As a sexual person, I understand the theory, but I don’t know how each distinction feels.” Kazama meets Aiba’s eyes. “But I go to a support group, and have friends who do.”

Aiba takes a deep breath, nodding. “I never thought about breaking it up like that. I can really relate. And there are people out there who can, too?”

“Definitely. More on the internet, and even more if you know English.”

“Oh, wow.” Aiba pauses. “I should do some research.”

“Listen.” Kazama’s voice is very gentle now. “You don’t need a label, okay? Even if there isn’t one for you now, it doesn’t mean your feelings aren’t real. Labels help you feel like you belong, sure, but even without them, you’re still valid and loved.”

Aiba is touched. “Thank you, Kazapon.”

“No problem. I totally ripped that speech off someone from my meeting, but whatever. She’s not here.”

Aiba laughs, and as they continue chatting and sipping on their coffee, he feels tremendously blessed to have Kazama as a friend.

***

It takes a few days before Aiba decides he’s informed enough, thanks to the internet and some enlightening conversations on the phone with Kazama. He feels like he finally has a handle on who he is, but he's still got reservations about certain inclinations… And all of them seem to involve Nino.

It’s a relatively new feeling. He knows a lot of it has got to do with Nino being away from home; it’s been a month since he’s seen a real live Nino. He’s otherwise been able to catch Nino on TV, but it’s obviously not the same. They occasionally exchange texts and pictures—Aiba sent Nino the photo of him, Vivian and Kazama at Disneyland; Nino replied with a selfie that had him making a funny face—but Aiba doesn’t want to bother Nino too much, not when he’s at work. He’s got a taste of how things can blow up with just a packed lunch; what more a photo?

It’s late. Aiba finds himself outside Nino’s room. He sucks in air through his teeth, and opens the door.

His hands hover over the light switch, but he decides against it. For what he’s going to do, being in the shadows seems more appropriate. He closes the door, and his heart starts pounding as he walks up to the bed. Gingerly, he sits on it, bracing his arms against the edge of the mattress.

He looks at his toes peeking past the upper of his slippers. It gives him something to do in his hesitation. He sighs. All this doesn’t feel quite right, but it doesn’t feel wrong either. Aiba hangs his head and squeezes his eyes shut.

He’s thinking too much. He’s always, always thinking too much.

Aiba kicks off his slippers, swings his legs up onto the bed and goes straight for Nino’s pillow before dumping it on his face. He takes a deep breath. God, it smells just like him. There’s an aching in his heart and a warmth in his belly, suffusing and gripping and heady. Aiba is almost breathless when he finally removes the pillow, hugging it to his chest. Staring up at the ceiling, he bites the inside of his upper lip, feeling all sorts of things at once.

He presses the heel of his hand against his erection, sighing. A part of him resents how he’s gotten himself aroused: sneaking into Nino’s room, lying on his bed like that, _smelling his pillow_ … It’s kind of deviant. But there’s also relief. A lot of it. Knowing that he gets turned on by the thought of Nino and him in bed answers a lot of questions about how he’s been feeling lately.

Aiba puts the pillow back, then leaves the room.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title from UB's ingenious use of the expression _tsukazu hanarezu_ , which means 'just the right distance; not too far and not too close'.


	5. Tomorrow never knows, but I'll be with you

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SO. MUCH. FLUFF.

Everything changes that Monday.

Nino is in Kyoto working on a fantasy period movie about a female-dominated imperial court and there’s a manga it’s based on, so when Aiba saw Suzu reading it between first and second period he asked if he could borrow it when she’s done. Nino is coming home the next evening (allegedly) and Aiba wants to have something to talk about over dinner (provided Nino makes it home). Suzu finished the book at the end of the day, so Aiba now takes it out of his bag along with his notes and textbook. He switches on the lamp hanging above the dining table and gets ready for revision.

He’s still having a bit of trouble remembering all the formal terms, having never done high school biology in Japanese, so he has to study every night just to keep up. He doesn’t like having to do it, but like what Kazama said: he’s been there, done that. He knows where hard work can get him. All this will be worth it in the end.

To give himself an incentive for studying, Aiba lets himself read a couple of pages of the manga after every 20 minutes of digesting the coursework. He’s been doing this with Shonen Jump; it’s his way of keeping his pace efficient. So far it’s been working.

An hour later, Aiba finds himself heavy-lidded and yawning. It’s the late nights he’s been having, he realises, trawling the English-language internet for hours to learn more about himself. He supposes it’s okay to take a nap, and shuts the textbook before placing his head on his folded hands.

“Aiba-chan. Get up. Don’t sleep here.”

It feels like a second later, but the crick in Aiba’s neck tells him it’s not. “Ow,” he gasps, hand flying to his neck. It’s pretty painful. And then there’s pressure, and Nino is there, kneading the knot out of his neck with his hands.

“Why did you fall asleep in such a weird position?” scolds Nino, and Aiba is apparently not capable of cohesive thought, because all he can think of is: why are Nino’s hands so soft?

“You’re home early,” are the words that eventually tumble out of Aiba’s mouth, and he tries to turn his head to look at Nino.

“Whoa, stop,” says Nino, holding Aiba’s head in place. “Hang on. I know the trick for this, my masseuse taught me.”

“Wow, your _masseuse_ , huh,” teases Aiba.

“Don’t you know who I am?” Nino scoffs.

“Yeah, yeah. Big shot People member. I know. Didn’t you say you’ll be home only tomorrow?”

“I finished the stipulated scenes earlier than scheduled, so I decided to come home early.” Nino pushes Aiba slightly forward and starts working on a spot in his shoulder. “It’s somewhere here… Ah, found it.”

“Ow!”

“Stay still!”

“It hurts!” whines Aiba, eyes watering.

“Just let me soften up this bit, and you’ll be fine,” soothes Nino.

Aiba stamps his feet and covers his eyes with his hands. He’s wide awake now. With pain.

“Okay, done,” says Nino after a few minutes. Aiba touches the muscle that Nino has been working on. It’s still tender. “Can you turn your head?” asks Nino. “Do it slowly.”

Aiba tries the movement. It’s mostly pain-free. He breaks into a grin. “You have a good masseuse.”

Nino makes an irritated noise. “And you’re very welcome.” He then points to the manga lying on the dining table. “You’re reading it!”

“I am. Borrowed it from my classmate.” Aiba gets up from his seat, picking up the book, and leans against the edge of the table. He flips to a page and shows it to Nino. “You’re gonna have sex in the movie!”

“Seriously?” Nino throws his arms out exasperatedly, before letting them fall by his sides. “I’ve been gone a month working my ass off for this production, and that’s the first thing you’re gonna say about it?”

Aiba laughs, then spends a second taking Nino in. He’s lost a bit of weight; Aiba doesn’t remember this particular ratty T-shirt looking this big on him. Then he looks at Nino’s face, sporting that smile of his, and Aiba sighs as he realises: Nino is _here_. Right in front of him.

Aiba sweeps Nino into a hug, though it’s more like he's clinging onto Nino, an arm across his back and another around his waist. He buries his face in Nino’s neck, breathing in his scent, his familiarity.

“Hey.” Nino’s voice is muffled against Aiba’s shoulder, and he pats Aiba’s back softly. “Don’t strain your neck.”

“I’ve missed you,” says Aiba against Nino’s skin. Aiba’s pulse has quickened a notch. Nino’s is doing the same. Aiba can tell from the vein that pulsates against his lips.

Nino doesn’t say anything. He just continues drawing warm circles on Aiba’s back.

Aiba feels a surge of courage. He presses his lips against the hair that curls at the base of Nino's neck, then kisses his collarbone, and under his ear. Nino must be feeling this, but still he doesn’t say anything. Aiba goes on to touch his lips down the side of Nino’s jaw, taking his time to reach the mole on Nino’s chin. He swallows before meeting Nino’s eyes. They’re almost bumping noses. Almost. Nino’s ears have gone completely red.

“Can I…?” Aiba drops his gaze to Nino’s lips.

“Really?” murmurs Nino. “You’re asking _now_?”

And then they’re kissing, and Aiba can’t get enough. It feels _perfect_ , kissing Nino. It’s perfect _because_ it’s Nino. He cups Nino’s face in his hands, wanting more. Nino complies, pressing his mouth harder against Aiba’s. Intuitively, Aiba starts backing up against the dining table, Nino staggering along with him, hands fisted in the front of Aiba’s shirt. Nino then leans into Aiba, making the table shift backward with a loud creak, and Aiba yelps, losing his balance, but only for a moment because Nino is holding him, keeping him upright. They pause to look at each other, cheeks flushed, lips wet.

“I guess this means you’re into guys now, huh?” Nino’s smile is almost shy. It’s a rare kind of smile to see on Nino. Aiba loves it.

“No,” Aiba shakes his head, “it means I’m into you.”

Nino tips his head back and laughs, and Aiba takes the chance to blow a loud raspberry on Nino’s Adam’s apple. Nino jumps, trying to squirm out of Aiba’s arms, screaming about how that tickled. It’s hilarious and surprising, so Aiba does it again. Nino swats at his arm, yelling at him to stop.

“You have a weak spot,” says Aiba matter-of-factly.

“Don’t,” warns Nino, keeping Aiba at arm’s length. “You just took away like, ten HP.”

Aiba laughs, then crooks his fingers to pinch Nino’s cheek between them. “You’ve always known, haven’t you?”

“Known what?” Nino takes Aiba’s hand off his cheek, holds it.

“That I was different.”

“Are you talking about your clumsiness? Because that’s—”

Aiba ducks his head and goes for Nino’s Adam’s apple again. Nino pushes against Aiba’s shoulders to hold him at bay, giggling while moaning his surrender.

“I’m _different_ , Nino-chan. And I think you knew even before I did.” Aiba rubs his thumb into Nino’s palm, thinking of how to explain things to him. “I’m a biromantic demisexual, but also bisexual and demiromantic. Do you know what that means?”

“I know you just said a bunch of English words that had ‘sex’ in it,” says Nino with a lazy grin. “You’re you, Maa-kun. I don’t really care.” He pulls Aiba towards him for another kiss, but Aiba cuts it short.

“But I care.” Aiba knows communicating this is important, and he wants to do this right from the get-go. He wants to do it right. “My sexuality is kinda grey, but right now you can take it to mean I love only you.”

Nino makes a face, ears reddening again. “For heaven’s sake, Maa-kun, use some subtext. We’re Japanese after all.”

“Too late, I’ve spent too many years abroad.” Aiba laughs, and starts tugging him towards the sofa. “Come. We’ve got some things to talk about.”

They sit down to have a serious conversation about what Aiba has found out about himself. He explains that him being demiromantic and demisexual means he needs to form a strong emotional bond with a person before the thought of romance and having sex with them even crosses his mind. Nino doesn’t get it immediately, until Aiba asks if Nino has ever looked at a pretty stranger and feels that he wants to kiss them, or bone them; Nino says yes, but then points out he suppresses the urge. Aiba snaps his fingers and says that’s the difference. There isn’t an urge to suppress. His body and mind aren’t capable of the attraction itself. Nino finally comprehends.

But because being demi doesn’t specify demi to whom, there is another dimension to Aiba’s identity. He is attracted romantically to both men and women, which explains how he was attracted to his exes, and also to Nino. On the other hand, when he was with women, he wasn’t completely into the sex. That’s why he’s guessing he’s bisexual; being bi doesn’t mean he’s split cleanly down the middle when it comes to who he likes to have sex with, and the thought of being in bed with Nino holds far more appeal than sex with women has ever had.

Nino doesn’t mask his glee. “You fantasise about me?”

“Just the once.” Aiba doesn’t need to tell Nino about the pillow-sniffing. Not now.

Nino’s face falls. “Only once?”

From his end of the sofa, Aiba hurls a cushion at Nino. “Up until a week ago I thought I was straight, okay? I haven’t had the time!”

Nino catches the cushion, laughing. “What happened a week ago?”

“Kazama-kun came over, and—” Aiba stops as he realises how he’s going to finish his sentence.

“Kazama-kun _came over_?” Nino has picked up on the awkward pause. Aiba might as well be honest.

“Yeah. I was apparently sending him some vibes that night, because he kissed me.”

“That fucker!” groans Nino into the cushion, sliding down his side of the sofa and kicking his feet in agitation.

“You have a _sex scene_ in your movie,” reminds Aiba, prodding Nino’s toes with his own.

“It’s not the same thing!”

“It isn’t, but they both don’t mean anything to either of us, so.”

Nino grumpily agrees.

“I basically rejected him then and there, and he was really nice about it,” continues Aiba. “But the kiss made me realise I didn’t hate kissing a guy, which was just… With the whole disinterest in romance, it didn’t even occur to me to think about liking men up until then, and I was like—” Aiba searches for the words.

“It’s like a light went on in your head,” says Nino. He gets it.

“Exactly. I didn’t like kissing _him_ , but after it happened I thought about who I’d like to kiss, and…” Aiba gives Nino’s toes another prod.

Nino looks at Aiba for a long moment. “You _were_ different,” Nino realises out loud. “You were so… innocent. I think that’s why I liked you the moment I met you.”

“Yeah, all I had on my mind was manga and sports.” Aiba laughs. “I was a very simple teenager.”

Nino suddenly sits up. “Do you remember that thing with that girl from your class? The one who really wanted to hang out with you during Christmas?”

“Tabe-chan?”

“That’s the one.” Nino jabs a finger in the air. “Tabe-chan. Man, that thing with her really stressed you out. I’d never seen you like that about anything before, not even when you had that leg injury. That’s when I realised you were _really_ not into the whole dating-girls thing. I was relieved, because neither was I.”

Aiba thinks about how it was in junior high that Kazama realised he liked boys. “Did you like me back then?”

“Romantically?” Nino considers this. “I don’t know. Maybe? I didn’t realise I was into guys back then. Like you, it just never crossed my mind. I was very fond of you, but you were my best friend so that was normal to me. I guess the different types of feelings just blended together, you know? I didn’t really care how I liked you. I just knew I did. That’s never really changed, even after all these years.”

Nino is saying he recognises this love as one big feeling, and Aiba understands: as important as it’s been for him to identify and compartmentalise all his inclinations, at the end of the day what really matters is he knows who he loves, and who loves him back. And this love that they share—it’s a whole new category of love that doesn’t yet have a name. Nino is both friend and lover, but at the same time he’s neither because he’s more than that. It’s unique and paradoxical and beautiful, and Aiba knows it goes beyond any label.

They sit there, at opposite ends of the sofa, smiling at each other.

***

It takes a few days before Aiba gets used to Nino’s room. The colour of the ceiling is different, the sunlight wakes him up a different way, and it smells like Nino all the time.

Aiba loves it.

They slept together—literally—the night they first kissed, being too tired to try anything else (though they totally made Aiba late for school the next morning by making out in the shower, Aiba still has bruises on his knees to show for it). Nino said very cheekily, before he left for Kyoto again, that Aiba could sleep in his room while he was away if it made him miss Nino more. 

It does make him miss Nino more. But it’s the kind of missing that doesn’t hurt.

“Masaki-sensei?” Something burrows into Aiba’s chest. “I need to go pee.”

Aiba snaps out of his thoughts to focus on the task at hand. He’s at work today, and there are two teachers to four kids, an indulgent ratio. The thing burrowing into his chest is Dai, a five-year-old boy with a predilection for dinosaur-shaped pancakes (it’s all Aiba has seen packed in Dai’s snack box in the months he’s worked there, and Dai gobbles them up worryingly fast).

Kumiko-sensei, his supervisor, is in the middle of story time with the other three kids, so Aiba takes Dai to the toilet. Dai’s got no problem going by himself, but he likes to be talked to over the walls of the bathroom stall as he goes. Aiba waits just outside the kid-sized cubicle, and is asked if he likes dinosaurs. Aiba says he loves dinosaurs. Dai explains, in a solemn tone, how he’s only recently come to terms about never getting to see a real live one. It makes Aiba laugh. Dai exits the stall, still pulling up his pants, and Aiba watches silently, waiting to see if Dai washes his hands. Dai makes a move for the door; Aiba stops him, asking him to please wash his hands. Dai tries to negotiate his way out of it (“I’ll do it at home! Promise!”), but Aiba sticks to his guns, and Dai reluctantly gets his hands clean.

“It’s such a surreal time,” whispers Aiba to Kumiko as they crouch to fit themselves into the tiny chairs that sit around the tiny table in their classroom, keeping an eye on the children as they sleep in their tiny mattresses. “The conversations that you have with these kids; they don’t happen in the real world. Not with anyone else.”

“But they grow up so fast,” Kumiko says wistfully. “One day they’re asking you what ladybirds taste like, and before you know it they’re asking you to push back their curfew.” She chortles. Aiba knows she’s thinking about her teenaged daughter. She tilts her head, considering something. “You’re really good with kids, Aiba-kun. Have you always liked them?”

Aiba has to think about this. “I don’t know if this is the right thing to say, but I’ve always been good with animals? I don’t know what that says about how I feel about kids, but… In a lot of ways, it feels the same. Does that answer your question?”

“Ah.” Kumiko gives a knowing nod. “Then it must have to do with how your parents raised you.”

Aiba laughs. “I can’t claim credit for that, but they made sure I grew up with pets. When I was a kid, up until I was about nine, we kept a lot of pets. Birds, dogs, chipmunks, axolotls… It was like a small zoo.” Aiba smiles at the memory. “My brother and I had to take care of them as part of our chores.”

Kumiko grins. “Would you do the same for your kids, if you ever have any?”

The question takes Aiba by surprise. He’s never actually thought about him having kids, and he falters. He can’t ever be a dad now, can he? Not with Nino…

“I don’t even know if I want to think about that,” says Aiba, truthfully. “But this,” he gestures to the sleeping kids, “this is nice enough for me right now.”

The thought lingers on his mind the rest of the day. It’s prompted him to think about an aspect of his relationship with Nino he has not dared hoped existed, and it scares him. It gives rise to a lot of unanswerable questions, and these questions lead to more questions, all about the future. Aiba returns to the apartment feeling worn out.

There’s a missed call from Nino, Aiba realises as he checks his phone. It was made a few minutes ago, and just as he’s thinking to call back, a text message pops up.

_Coming home for the night._  
_Be back by eight._  
_See you soon._  


Aiba clicks the screen off, pushing all his weird thoughts away. He’s decided he’s not going to overthink. Right now, he just wants to be happy, and being with Nino makes him happy, so that’s what he’s going to do.

Hours later, Aiba brings being happy with Nino to another level.

“Faster,” says Nino, clutching Aiba’s hand. “Please.”

“No.” As he spoons Nino, Aiba continues his lazy pumping of Nino’s erect cock, pressing his own half-hard one into Nino’s butt crack and rocking his hips to the languid rhythm of his hand. Aiba realises he knows exactly what he’s doing. There’s no guessing, no uncertainty. It’s so much more straightforward when they share the same anatomy.

“Maa-kun,” says Nino, his urgency apparent. Aiba doesn’t respond. Nino looks over his shoulder and bucks his hips. “ _Aiba_.”

Aiba laughs, then presses a kiss to the back of Nino’s neck. “Be patient.”

Nino swears colourfully.

Aiba finally separates himself from Nino. “Get on your back,” he instructs.

Nino rolls over, and Aiba straddles him before reaching for more lube and squirting a generous amount onto his hand. He lines up their cocks, taking a moment to admire their differentness as they rest on Nino’s belly. He cups the erections with both his hands, stroking them base up so they’re covered in lube. Nino stares at Aiba’s hands, mesmerised.

Aiba relaxes his shoulders; cradling their cocks, he starts to move faster. Nino’s features contort in pleasure, and when Aiba starts squeezing his palms together Nino falls heavily back, fisting the sheets in his hands, heels raking up and down the mattress. Aiba has never seen Nino like this before, and he watches, amused and turned on, as Nino arches his back and presses his cheek into his pillow, gasping.

“You like this?” asks Aiba, and Nino nods wordlessly. Aiba pulls back, gliding past Nino’s shaft again and again, still keeping them tight between his hands. Nino can’t stop writhing, and his moans are so hot, so hot.

“How?” asks Nino faintly.

“How what?”

“Did you go to school for this or something?”

Aiba laughs. It’s all instinct, he swears, as he applies more lube.

Aiba cages their cocks once more with his fingers, and Nino asks if Aiba can make his hold less tight, to snap his hips more. Aiba doesn’t get it at first, so Nino demonstrates. It looks like a dance move. Aiba tries it, and he must have gotten it right because Nino gives him a triumphant look. Nino then grabs Aiba’s wrists, and begins to pump.

Aiba is holding them, but Nino is driving. This new motion pushes Aiba closer and closer to the edge, creating sounds and sensations he’s never experienced before. Eventually he asks Nino to take over because he’s almost losing it; he needs time to calm down.

Aiba bends over for a breather, supporting himself with both hands against the mattress, before realising having Nino be in charge isn’t the best idea: because Nino’s hands aren’t lubed up, there’s a lot more friction, and Nino—being Nino—is doing things his way, gyrating his hips and focusing solely on the heads of their cocks by taking them separately in each hand. Damn him and his ambidexterity. Aiba asks Nino to stop and, after applying more lube, takes them once more. He goes back to his original pace, but it doesn’t help much because Nino is responding with his damned dancer move. Aiba squeezes his eyes shut as he’s struck by wave upon wave of pleasure. He really wants to come.

“Oh, shit. Shit.” Nino gives a subdued cry and comes first. Aiba follows not long after, groaning with the release, and they watch, panting, as their cum trickles past Nino’s side, down his waist, and seeps into the sheets. It’s a fascinating sight.

“ _You_ ,” is all Nino says, as he places a hand on the nape of Aiba’s neck and guides him into a kiss.

After they break apart, Aiba adjusts himself so he’s lying right on top of Nino, not caring that there’s a mess of semen and lube smeared between them. He then leans in to kiss Nino’s forehead, his nose, his chin, and again on his mouth. He repeats the pattern a few times and, in a trick move, goes for Nino’s throat and blows a raspberry on it, making Nino yelp and kick his legs in the air. 

Aiba laughs. “You lose ten HP,” he announces, then rolls onto his back, sighing contentedly as his hand finds Nino’s.

They lie there quietly. Aiba listens to the sound of Nino breathing as he waits for his own pulse to regulate. He thinks about how the last time he was lying beside Nino, feeling spent. It was after they’d raced each other from school to the park or something else innocent like that. He wouldn’t have imagined that over a decade later he’d still be lying beside Nino, except naked and hot and smelling like sex.

Aiba is hiding his grin, turning his face into the pillow, when Nino grips his fingers.

“I will never stop wanting this,” says Nino, pulling Aiba’s hand up to rest it against his chest. “Like, even if our parents find out and can’t deal, or if I have to quit People, or you go to work in some zoo far away.”

Aiba turns to look at him, surprised. “Where’s all this coming from?”

Nino sighs. “I don’t know. I’ve dreamed of this, with you. I can admit it now. I never really let myself commit to the thought because you weren’t actually in my life. Then I entered show business and it just seemed so impossible, but you came back—exactly what I expected and more—and I thought it was enough, you know? I thought just having you back was enough.” Nino exhales loudly through his nose. “I didn’t dare to want anything with you, but now that I have it…” Nino turns to Aiba, looking pained. The vulnerability, stark on his face, is jarring and foreign.

“Come on.” Aiba wiggles the hand that Nino is holding and swings his legs off the bed. “Let’s get cleaned up.”

They get in the shower. They don’t speak about Nino’s worries, choosing instead to stand under the water and kiss their troubles away. Aiba feels desperately relieved that Nino has been thinking about them, and what all this means for them. He isn’t the only one who’s scared, or the only one who wants this. He weaves his fingers in Nino’s wet hair, bringing his mouth closer still.

“We’re so awful, wasting water like this,” mumbles Nino into the kiss. Aiba just hums and edges closer to Nino, closing the distance between their bodies.

“We’ll protect each other,” says Aiba against Nino’s lips. “Give zero fucks to the naysayers.”

Nino draws back, grinning, sweeping water out of his eyes. “Wow.”

“What?”

“You’re hot when you’re aggro.”

“I’m not _aggro_. And I’m hot all the time!” protests Aiba, and Nino rolls his eyes before grabbing the shower head and aiming it at Aiba. Aiba sputters, stumbling backward as the spray hits his face, and Nino laughs.

“That’s for the throat thing.” Nino turns the water off. “Revenge for my ten HP.”

Aiba advances towards Nino menacingly, before grabbing him and locking him into a crushing hug. “And this is for the ten years you tried to find your Aiba-kun.”

Nino tries to squirm out of the hug, but Aiba is taller and stronger so Nino eventually gives up, letting his arms fall limply by his sides.

“You,” says Nino, his chest heaving in a laugh.

***

Suzu and Aiba often take the same train, since Suzu lives in Funabashi and Aiba has to pass through there on his journey. One day, Suzu announces that her parents got her a car and she’s going to start driving to and from school because it’s cheaper; she also offers to give Aiba a ride from Nishi-Funabashi Station, the stop closest to her house, and also a stop that’s on Aiba’s route.

Aiba finds out riding with Suzu would help him save a substantial 800 yen every day, so he says yes, and offers to contribute to petrol costs. Suzu says he doesn’t have to; it’s on the way anyway, she isn’t suffering any significant losses. Aiba doesn’t know how he deserves all this good in his life, and decides to get Suzu a gift when the opportunity presents itself.

It’s only when he gets into Suzu’s car for the first time and listens to three People songs in a row that Aiba realises Suzu is a People fan.

“Is it such a surprise?” says Suzu, stopping at a light. “They’re huge. Half the class is in their fan club or something.”

“Yeah, but I’ve known you for a while now and I’ve never heard you mention it!”

Suzu laughs. “I lent you that manga, remember?”

“That’s a very popular work,” argues Aiba. “It wasn’t a hint.”

“Yes, but I only read it because of Nino’s new movie.” Suzu drums her fingertips on the steering wheel, checking traffic. “Though, to be fair, I _am_ a bit of a closet fan. I’m not the kind of person who really goes crazy over idols, you know? I prefer appreciating who they are as people. Like how hard they work, that sort of thing.”

Aiba thinks of Vivian, who has proudly shared that she dances and screams her love for Sho when she watches the concert DVDs. He definitely can’t imagine Suzu doing that.

“Do you have a favourite member?” asks Aiba.

“Not really, I like them all,” says Suzu. “I think they’re all very talented.” Suzu gives Aiba a sidelong glance. “You know, I’ve been meaning to ask you something.”

“Yeah?” answers Aiba, thinking Suzu is about to change the subject.

“Sometime last year, Nino was on a show to look for his childhood friend. The guy had the same name as you.” Suzu keeps her eyes on the road. “I happened to watch the clip again recently and I swear that guy also had your voice. A lot of other things matched up too: he lived in Singapore, and is your age. They showed a photo of him when he was a kid and I can’t help but think: was that you?”

Aiba sucks in air through his teeth. He’s always known it was possible this could happen again; Vivian picked up on it almost immediately, after all, so any astute fan in his circles who’s observant enough probably can too. He doesn’t see any harm in admitting that it’s him, though; it’s not like he’s telling Suzu he actually lives with Nino, or that they’re in a relationship.

“If I say yes, what will you do?” Aiba smiles, genuinely curious.

Suzu considers this. “I’ll bounce in my chair a little?”

“That’s cute.” Aiba laughs. He decides to tell her. “Yeah, that was me.”

Suzu grins and bounces in her chair as promised. “So you’re Nino’s friend? Like, for real?”

“Yeah, pretty much.”

Suzu gives a series of nods, impressively calm compared to Vivian, who’d been screaming by this point. Aiba remembers the Skype conversation all too clearly.

“If you get the chance, would you please tell Nino to try and exercise a bit more? He might feel fine now, but he’ll lose muscle mass as he ages.”

Aiba bursts out laughing. He knows what Suzu is talking about; Nino has been fairly honest to the media about his sedentary private life. “ _That’s_ what you want to tell him?”

“I’ve thought about what I want to say to each People member if I ever get to meet them and can only tell them one thing,” says Suzu seriously. “That’s my message for Nino.”

“I’ll let him know,” says Aiba, and he does that very night when Nino comes through the door.

Nino groans, but he’s smiling as he takes off his cap. He runs a hand through his flattened hair. “That’s so cute, though.”

“I know, right? Your fans are so nice.”

“Not all of them,” Nino smirks, “but I have faith that most are.” He passes by Aiba at the dining table and squeezes his arm before sliding a hand past Aiba’s shoulders, then heads off to the hobby room to put his bag down.

Aiba leans back in his seat, watching Nino walk down the hallway and disappear past the door. He reemerges not long after, crossing the hallway to his bedroom.

“I’ve run the bath,” calls Aiba, craning his neck. “If the water’s not hot enough, reheat it a little.”

“Okay, thank you!” comes Nino’s muffled reply, and Aiba settles back into his seat.

It’s been a busy time for Nino; ever since coming back from Kyoto it’s been concert rehearsal after concert rehearsal, with all the other jobs in between. He doesn’t even have time to game at home. Sometimes Aiba doesn’t even see Nino before he goes to bed. Aiba knows Nino tries to come home as early as he can, but recently their concept of early has been compromised: it’s now almost midnight, and Aiba is thinking how early Nino is today.

They don’t sleep in the same room; they’ve tried, but they’re both very practical people, and decided they’re not at a point in their lives where sharing a bed is a good idea. Aiba has to wake up a lot earlier than Nino, and he doesn’t see the point in blasting an alarm that would wake Nino mere hours after he’s gone to bed. Besides, Nino snores. Aiba has lost sleep because of this, and it’s always a daunting thing to wake up to a day of practical lessons at the on-campus zoo with minimal sleep. The day Aiba nodded off while cleaning a trough was the day he knew he shouldn’t try to sleep with a snorer.

Ever since they’ve fallen into this routine, they haven’t had sex. Aiba isn’t completely okay with it; he’s still very attracted to Nino, and experiences a lot of desire when it comes to him specifically, but Nino doesn’t seem to be that way. He seems content with the shoulder-squeezing and occasional peck on the lips. Aiba wonders if he should ask, but he doesn’t want Nino to feel any pressure. They have an open invitation to each other’s rooms, but neither of them have taken it up.

So Aiba decides to visit Nino in the bathroom.

“Hello, you,” says Nino when Aiba pokes his head past the doorjamb and into the steam.

“Hey.” Aiba enters and slides the door closed. Nino’s bathroom is the biggest one in the apartment, and both the shower area and the bathtub are larger than a regular unit bath’s. Aiba goes to sit on the edge of the bathtub, looking at Nino. His eyes come to rest on Nino’s absolutely naked crotch.

“You’re not going to join me?” asks Nino, grinning.

Aiba laughs. “I’ve already bathed, but I do like baths.” Aiba strips, then lowers himself into the water. “Hot,” he mutters, his movements turning gingerly, and Nino reaches out to grasp his hands, supporting him. “Wait, I know. Let’s spoon,” says Aiba right before his butt touches the water, and he rotates awkwardly with his knees bent, making both of them laugh. “Make sure I don’t sit on your dick?” Aiba checks behind him as he sits down.

“You’re not going to sit on my dick,” says Nino, giggling.

The tub gurgles as the drain built into the bath accommodates the new water level, and Aiba shuffles backward to wedge himself between Nino’s knees. Nino then tucks his arms under Aiba’s to wind them across his torso. He balances his chin on Aiba’s shoulder.

“I haven’t seen you naked in forever,” complains Nino into Aiba’s ear.

“Yeah, I’m pretty sure that’s not on me.”

Nino drops a kiss on Aiba’s neck. “When all this is over, yeah? I’ll make time.”

“Mm.”

Nino sighs, and Aiba feels him press his forehead on the base of Aiba’s neck. Nino never complains, not about anything that’s actually worth complaining about, so Aiba can only guess how tired he is. It’s probably why Nino isn’t making any moves despite their closeness; he doesn’t want to start what he can’t finish.

“Your friend, Suzu,” murmurs Nino, “she’s the one who’s giving you the lift to and from the station, right?”

“Right,” says Aiba, impressed that Nino remembers. “You _do_ read your texts.”

Nino chuckles. “‘Course I do.” There’s a pause, and Nino drops his hands to Aiba’s waist, keeps them there, starts massaging Aiba’s back with his thumbs. “If you’re ever comfortable with it, you could introduce me to your friends. Not as your boyfriend, but as… you know.”

“My one true love?” jokes Aiba, despite his surprise at Nino’s proposal, and his use of the word ‘boyfriend’.

Nino laughs. “Yeah. That works.”

“You sure it’s okay? Tommy-san won’t get mad?”

“Yeah. It’s my life, and it’s not like I haven’t met people outside of the industry through mutual friends. Sho-chan’s even got lots of those, since he went to university and has friends everywhere. And don’t forget all those random people Leader meets on boats.”

Aiba hums. “I don’t know if I want to introduce you to my friends from _school_. I love them, but they’re kinda… young.” Aiba laughs at this. He’s basically calling himself old. “They’re mature for their age, I’ll give them that, but I’m not sure it’s the best idea to introduce them to Nino from People just yet.” Still, there is someone on Aiba’s mind, and he leans back into Nino, studying his face as he asks:

“How about Kazapon?”

Nino puts on a baneful glare. “The guy who kissed you before I did?”

“You’re missing the point. See, I’ve thought about this, and decided I have three best friends,” announces Aiba, holding up fingers. “Yuusuke, Vivian and Kazapon.” He’s now slid so far down the tub that his head is resting on Nino’s shoulder. “I used to have four, but then you became this,” Aiba waves in Nino’s direction, “so I’ve put you in another category.”

Nino laughs. “What, you’re never gonna take baths with your friends? Or your brother? I get why you can’t with Vivian, but given your fondness for baths—”

“I _would_ ,” interrupts Aiba, “but I wouldn’t want to touch their cocks while we’re at it.” Aiba makes a face. “Ew, you just made me imagine my brother - never mind. Better left unsaid.”

“Idiot,” says Nino fondly, leaning in for a kiss.

Aiba doesn’t want to be greedy, but they’re naked and pressed up against each other and the water’s so warm and they just talked about cock-touching and he’s _so into Nino_ , so he starts fondling Nino between his legs while making a very naughty sound against his mouth. Nino claps a hand on his, looking alarmed.

“Stop,” says Nino, jerking his hips away from Aiba’s body. He’s frowning, and his tone is less than friendly. Aiba is bewildered at first, until he notices the flush spreading up Nino’s chest, all the way to his ears.

Nino is embarrassed.

And then Aiba sees it. He finally understands why Nino doesn’t ask for sex when he’s tired, understands why he was talking about making time: he wants to be in a certain headspace, a certain mood. Because of his status, Nino has never sought to be intimate with men; Aiba is, technically, his first. There’s a lot that’s new to him too, and Aiba guesses he now has a different set of expectations when it comes to sex. Aiba thinks about the last couple of times they were together. There were signs; Nino was self-conscious. He feels bad about not noticing Nino’s reservations earlier.

“Listen. I don’t care how long we go for,” says Aiba. He thought it didn’t need to be said, but apparently Nino doesn’t know how he feels.

Nino sighs and looks away. He rubs his palm down his face, pinches his top lip between his thumb and forefinger, drags it out in a pout. “You don’t get it,” he says finally. “You’re always at the top of your game.”

“I’m not.”

“You are! You’re like… some endurance athlete,” says Nino flatly. “I finish way too soon.”

“There’s no such thing as ‘too soon’.”

Nino still looks apprehensive. Aiba sits up, swishes himself around, and holds Nino’s shoulders.

“Kazu,” says Aiba, using the name for the first time, “you’re literally the only person in the world I want to have sex with. I don’t care how it happens, I’m just glad it does. Seriously.”

Nino looks at Aiba for a beat, then reaches his arms out for a hug. It’s a perfect surrender. It makes Aiba wish for time to stop, because this Nino is all his. There’s no one else Nino will show this side of himself to. It’s extremely humbling.

***

August arrives, brazen and sweltering, and Aiba has a proper summer vacation for the first time in years. He finds more work with a company that organises English camps for kids, and goes off to Niigata for a few days to teach swimming in English. He used to teach swimming to Japanese kids living in Singapore as a part-time job during his uni days—he went through the course and obtained the certification—so he’s not entirely new to this.

When he comes back from Niigata, tan and tired and aching from all the exercise, he’s surprised to find someone else in Nino’s apartment.

“Hey, Kazuko-san,” Aiba beams, toeing off his shoes, “fancy seeing you here.” Nino must have given her a keycard.

“You’re home early!” Nino’s mother says, flustered, wiping her hands on her apron. “Kazu said you’ll be back at six.”

“We ran ahead of schedule. One of the kids got sick in the pool, and we had to get all of them out,” says Aiba, wincing as he smiles, remembering the debacle of the day. “The on-site instructors were told they could leave, so here I am.” A lovely smell wafts up to his nostrils and Aiba cranes his neck, trying to look into the kitchen. “Are you cooking?”

Nino’s mother nods. She glances at the clock. “You’re home _so_ early.”

Aiba realises something is off. “Am I not supposed to be home?” he asks.

There’s a buzzing sound. Someone is ringing their doorbell from downstairs. Aiba makes a move to press the button on the digital door viewer, but Nino’s mother races to the device and blocks the screen. In her hurry, however, she hits the speaker button.

“Hi! I’m here!” comes a voice, and Aiba swears it sounds just like his mother.

He looks at Nino’s mum. “Eh?”

She makes an exasperated sound, then turns to the microphone. “He’s home, Mari-chan. Too bad.”

Five minutes later Aiba is hugging his mother in the entryway of the apartment and she’s laughing, slapping Aiba’s arm for being home, and groaning about how this was supposed to be a surprise; Aiba realises that he’s _really_ missed her. She drags her suitcase into the apartment and exclaims how big it is. Aiba reminds her to tone down.

It’s been almost a year since Aiba moved to Japan. He Skypes with his parents once every couple of months, sometimes less. Usually they’re the ones who call.

Nino was in on this, Aiba realises, as he listens to the mothers talk. His mother’s visit seems to have stemmed from Kazuko and Mari planning a trip to Siberia—it strikes Aiba that this pair of best friends engage in activities of a flavour vastly different from his and Nino’s—and they both decided it was easier to do it in person, so Mari decided to come. She was, of course, also looking forward to seeing her son, and in true Aiba Mama style, decided to make it a surprise party. This involved borrowing Nino’s apartment, and because she has a direct line to Nino’s mother, everything fell into place pretty easily.

The amazing smell is from a pot of stew, some Chinese herbal thing that Kazuko believes has health benefits, and she says it has to continue simmering for about two more hours at least, so shall they all have tea in the meantime? Aiba asks if she needs the kettle—he and Nino rarely have tea, he just happens to know the kettle is buried deep in the cupboard—but she says she’s brought over a tumbler of cold mugicha, so Aiba helps to get it out of the fridge.

“Such a good boy,” he hears Kazuko mutter as she busies herself with stirring the stew. Aiba wonders if she’ll still think he’s a good boy if she finds out what he does in bed with her son; it’s a real worry, he can’t help it.

As he sets the coasters and glasses down at the dining table, Aiba’s mother opens the paper bag she brought along with her and takes out a round package, presenting it to Aiba with a flourish. He almost squeals when he realises what it is: it’s pandan cake, a fragrant chiffon cake that Aiba loves and hasn’t yet found in Japan. He asks Kazuko if she’s tried it, and when she says no, he says she absolutely has to. Kazuko volunteers to cut the cake up for them, telling them to spend some time together, and takes the cake to the kitchen. They thank her, and Aiba’s mother starts asking him about school, and whether he’s enjoying it. He tells her about the lessons and the animals at the on-campus zoo, and his friends.

Kazuko joins them at the table, bearing cake. “What are you guys talking about?” she asks, distributing forks.

“I was asking Masa about school,” says Mari.

“How’s it like, going to school in your twenties?” asks Kazuko, grinning.

Aiba laughs. “It’s a lot easier, but also a lot harder. Academically I feel like I have to rely on myself a lot more, but there’s none of that teenaged angst, you know?”

Both mothers hum and nod in commiseration. “You know,” says Kazuko, “I don’t know if your mum told you, but I’m so thankful Kazu got to meet you in junior high. You pretty much changed his life.” Kazuko reaches over to squeeze Aiba’s hand. “Thank you, Maa-kun.”

Aiba looks at his mother. She’s smiling, more at Kazuko than at him.

“Nino-chan changed my life too, so… You know.” Aiba blushes. Saying it out loud in front of his mother and Nino’s makes him shy.

“You should’ve seen him in elementary school. He was a really gloomy child.” Kazuko laughs, shaking her head. “We were so worried about him. He had all his games, but no friends—”

“That’s why you signed him up for baseball, right?” asks Mari.

“Well, he did already like the sport, but yes,” Kazuko reminisces. “But because we moved so much, he never really got to develop deep relationships with anyone. And then we had the year from hell—fourth grade,” says Kazuko darkly.

Aiba is curious now. “What happened in fourth grade?” He can’t imagine Nino being actually rebellious; impish, yes, but not defiant.

“He got bullied. A _lot_.” Kazuko takes a bite of cake. “The worst was when he was accused of stealing the lunch money. He didn’t, but the investigation took a few weeks, and I swear I lost five kilos.” Kazuko pokes at the folds of her stomach. “It’s all back now, but I swear I did.”

Kazuko has always been great at using humour to soften the blows of certain truths. Aiba remembers how altercations at Nino’s house always made him laugh even when they were perfectly serious, like the time Kazuko got really angry with Nino for neglecting his chores and called him a ‘waste of bread’, which made so much sense because Nino loved eating bread, and though Nino was irritated about basically being called good-for-nothing, he did end up laughing as well. Aiba knows she’s now trying to assure them it all turned out okay, that Nino turned out fine despite the bullying, but Aiba stomach still churns when he thinks about Nino being the target of malice.

“Morioka turned out to be a good decision after all, huh?” says Mari, taking a sip of her cold tea.

“Apart from how we left, yes.” Kazuko gives a wry smile. “Kazu was happier in fifth and sixth grade because of the new environment, but he never invited any friends over. I think he was putting up all these walls around himself because of what happened in fourth grade. First day of junior high, I took him by the shoulders and told him: ‘This is a new start, you go and make some friends’, and I think he did, because a couple weeks later he became friends with you. And this one here,” Kazuko gestures to Mari, “I used to say there’s no way a woman could raise such a magical child without being some sort of saint herself, so I knew she was special.”

“Please, Kazuko-san,” Mari laughs, “you flatter me.”

“Your mother,” Kazuko says to Aiba, “is ten years younger than I am, but she is my wisest friend. I’ve never met anyone as generous and open-minded as her.”

It’s interesting, Aiba thinks, to think of his parents as anything other than _his parents_ , in relation to him only (and by extension, his brother). Maybe it’s because he’s older, maybe it’s because Kazuko is here talking about his mother as her friend, but Aiba is suddenly able to see Mari as an individual, independent of his existence. He’s always known she has her friends, her hobbies, and goals of her own, but he’s never disconnected them from her identity as a mother. Aiba finally sees that she is loving and cheerful and capable and bright, not because she is his mother, but because of who she is as a person. It’s a lovely thing to realise.

“I’m really glad we found each other again,” Mari tells Kazuko. “We really have Kazu-kun to thank for that.”

“I didn’t even know he was looking,” says Kazuko, smiling at Aiba. “But it figures. He’s always loved you.” She and Mari exchange a knowing look.

Something catches in Aiba’s heart. He’s pretty sure Kazuko and Mari’s love for each other is platonic, and they probably assume his and Nino’s is as well—and it’s not to say it isn’t because romantic love and platonic love aren’t mutually exclusive things—but what Aiba sees now is how strongly the two women feel for each other, and he thinks that they might just understand at least one very important dimension of what he shares with Nino.

It gives him hope.

***

People has a big 10th anniversary concert at the National Stadium at the end of August, but the days of the performances go relatively easy: there aren’t any new dance moves for Nino to learn, no production meetings to attend, no extra lyrics to memorise. All that has to be done is show up and perform. It’s harder than it looks, sure, but Nino prefers it to the preparation. He finally gets to game in his hobby room. He’s earned it.

Aiba, on the other hand, is up to his ears in preparation for the school festival. It’s a huge event—the school will be open to the public, which means people are going to interact with the animals; there’s tons of logistics involved; every class has a job and the second-years call the shots—Aiba spends several late nights at school because his class is responsible for painting the giant mural that’s going to hang over the gate, and they only have a few weeks to finish it. He has fun, however, and becomes a lot closer to his classmates through all of it.

The cutest thing that happens at home during this period is how Nino keeps appearing in Aiba’s room. It starts because they keep missing each other—either Aiba comes home too late or Nino does—and one morning Aiba wakes up finding a pair of legs wound with his and a head of hair in his face. Nino came to bed last night, Aiba barely remembers, and here they are, sharing a pillow. Aiba takes some time to admire Nino’s sleeping face before sliding out from under Nino’s limbs. Nino stirs, but Aiba coaxes him back into sleep.

It happens again the next night, except Nino’s the one who’s already in bed, and he’s fast asleep. He’s on his side, not snoring at all. After a quick shower Aiba joins him, careful not to wake him, but Nino still cracks open his eyelids and murmurs a hello before turning on his other side to spoon Aiba. Aiba lets him, and falls asleep with Nino’s arm draped over his waist.

Some evenings they get to hang out before going to bed, fitting in a round or two of a game. Some mornings start with kisses which, on occasion, lead to sex. Some nights they talk, catching up on each other’s lives until they’re tired and fall asleep mid-sentence.

The summer vacation ends and regular classes are now in session, the second semester in full swing. This new term has Aiba spending three days a week at the on-campus zoo, and it’s tedious and tiring but also everything he came to Japan for. He has lessons on sheep shearing and pet grooming and primates and ungulates; on nutrition and breeding and dental care. What strikes Aiba is how deeply this course is teaching him about selflessness: it makes him think how he can best advocate for animals, what can be done to enrich their lives, and how to care for them in their best interests. It all comes from a place of awareness and love. Every day seems more meaningful than the next, and it’s only when he gets to talk to Nino about it that he realises this is how it feels like to love what one does; Nino says Aiba was born for this.

The school festival comes and goes. Aiba gives Kazama a call to thank him because he attended it along with some of his colleagues from Disneyland. Kazama asks if Aiba is free the coming Monday to go for a drink. Aiba says sure. He doesn’t mention Nino is right beside him, listening to the conversation and pointing to himself, mouthing that he wants to go. Aiba grins and tells Kazama he’s bringing a friend.

“Have you told him who I am?” asks Nino in the taxi, slouching in the seat, thumbs working the keypad of his phone. It’s Monday, and they’re off to meet Kazama. Aiba chose the restaurant. It's kind of far from Azabu-juuban, but has a discreet exit; Nino wouldn’t cause too big of a fuss if he’s recognised by anyone. Still, Aiba’s had him wear a mask just to be safe.

“He knows my roommate is a musician called ‘Kazu-kun’. That’s it.”

Nino laughs and looks up from his phone. “Doesn’t Vivian know about me?”

“Yuusuke was the one who told her. I had nothing to do with it.”

“Oh _right_ ,” Nino starts remembering, “how is it going with them?”

Aiba shrugs. “No idea. They’re pretty private when it comes to things like that. Last I heard, Yuusuke was grumbling about how she tends to compare everyone to Sho-kun.”

Nino lets out a loud cackle. “You know what? She should meet Sho-chan. I could totally introduce them.”

Aiba wrinkles his nose. “Wouldn’t that sabotage Yuusuke’s chances?”

“Nah. Sho-chan’s married to his job. He doesn’t want anything until he’s thirty-five. She’ll understand when she meets him.”

Aiba is still sceptical. “Uh, have you _seen_ Vivian, though?”

Nino is back at fidgeting with his phone. “Nope. I actually don’t know how your friends look like. I only know their names.”

Aiba’s been using a smartphone for years—they caught on a lot earlier in Singapore than in Japan; he couldn’t give up the convenience so he got the iPhone even though it’s _so_ expensive and criticised as a passing fad—and quickly navigates to Facebook to show Nino a picture.

“This is Vivian,” says Aiba, somewhat proudly, pushing the phone into Nino’s hands.

Nino’s eyes turn wide at the perfectly airbrushed photo of Vivian in lingerie and heels, striking a pose that’s more artistic than provocative. Her hair is cascading dramatically down half her face, creating a brilliant symmetry. “She’s a model?”

“Used to be. Part-time, during university. She said she had to earn money to come watch People’s concerts.” Aiba laughs, and swipes to show Nino a more recent picture. She’s in a short, fitted evening dress, standing beside her boss and posing with the glass trophy she received for being Rookie of the Year. “This is her now. She works in public relations.”

“Look at that body. And that face.”

“I know, right?”

“Her proportions, though.” Nino shakes his head. “So perfect. Reminds me of those Gundam models I used to make.”

Aiba bursts into peals of laughter. “Gundam models?” he gasps.

Nino returns him the phone, nodding. “I get what you’re saying now. If she’s got this aesthetic… She’s smart too, isn’t she?”

“She is!”

“Damn, she might just be his type.” Nino laughs. “Maybe we shouldn’t introduce them.”

“Oh crap. Did I just ruin her chances of ever meeting Sho-kun, though? She’ll _kill_ me.”

“She can meet me instead,” suggests Nino, winking.

Aiba considers this. Vivian _would_ love to meet Nino. “Deal,” says Aiba, and they shake on it.

It’s a minute later that Nino nudges Aiba again. He shows Aiba his phone; he’s typed up something.

_It’s just occurred to me_  
_that in your eyes,_  
_I’m way sexier than Vivian._  


Aiba throws a glance the driver’s way, blushing furiously, glad that Nino didn’t actually say the words out loud. Tokyo’s taxi drivers are famously professional; they never repeat what they hear from the passengers (unless it involves something criminal) but the text isn’t something for anyone’s ears.

Aiba types back:

_Not just Vivian. Everybody._

He gives the phone back.

Most of Nino’s face is hidden by his mask, but he has a very recognisable laugh, even when it’s as short and barely audible as this one: it’s got a rough, bubbling quality, and forms at the back of his throat. Though his voice is a lot lower than when he was fifteen, his laugh has stayed the same. Aiba loves it.

Nino types up something else, then hands the phone to Aiba.

_Really._  
_Tell me more._  
_How exactly_  
_am I sexier than_  
_everybody?_  


Aiba fights his grin, recalling a scene from a few mornings before, when Nino was shirtless and sweaty and moaning into his ear. He starts typing again.

They pass the phone back and forth, and the messages get raunchier and raunchier. Aiba’s crotch is throbbing by the time they get to their destination, and he can only marvel as Nino, with a completely neutral expression, snaps his phone shut and asks the driver how much they owe him. He’s so casual as he tells Aiba he’ll pay, so casual as they alight and he asks Aiba which restaurant it is. Aiba thinks he should win an acting award.

“Just checking,” announces Aiba as he pulls up the hem of Nino’s long T-shirt to look at the front of Nino’s pants. Nino catches his wrist to stop him.

“It’s there, you idiot,” Nino scolds, looking around. It’s eight in the evening and, thankfully, quite dark. No one can see their erections unless they come really close and squint.

Aiba giggles. “That was fun.”

Nino holds onto Aiba’s sleeve and looks up at him. “Take me to your friend, fair sir.”

They enter with no fuss; the restaurant is small and there aren’t many people tonight. The waiter informs them Kazama is already waiting in the private room, and they follow the waiter to said room, where he slides open the door. He tells them they can make their orders by pressing the buzzer on the table, and bows out.

It’s a zashiki room—they’re dining on the floor tonight—and Kazama unfolds his legs, getting up to greet this friend of Aiba’s.

“Hello,” says Kazama, bowing. “I’m Kazama, Aiba-kun’s friend from junior high. Nice to meet you.”

Nino takes off his cap and returns the bow. “Hi. I’m Aiba’s roommate, Ninomiya.”

Aiba starts, surprised. He didn’t expect Nino to introduce himself like that.

“Ah, the musician! Kazu-kun, was it?” asks Kazama, giving Nino a smile, which falters as Nino takes his mask off. Kazama blinks twice at Nino, then looks at Aiba. Aiba just smiles at him before saying:

“You guys, we should order.” Aiba seats himself on the tatami and reaches for the menu. “Come on, don’t waste time! It’s a school night!” 

Kazama tears his eyes off Nino and goes to sit across the table from Aiba. Nino chooses the seat between Aiba and the wall. He unrolls the hand towel by his plate and starts wiping his face. Kazama has a frown on; he’s looking quite confused as he steals glances at Nino.

“Is beer okay for everyone?” asks Aiba, readying his finger on the buzzer.

“Yeah, sure,” says Nino, as Kazama nods, still subdued. Aiba doesn’t want to be the one to tell him; Nino was the one who came clean with the roommate thing, the ball is in his court.

Aiba presses the button, the waiter comes almost immediately, and their beers are ordered. Aiba makes sure to block the waiter’s view of Nino, just in case.

“So,” Nino grins, folding his hands on the table and leaning forward, “I’ve heard a lot about you, Kazama-san.”

Kazama straightens. “Really?”

“Aiba-san says you’ve known each other a long time.”

"Yes. We got to know each other,” Kazama looks at Aiba for confirmation, “sometime in elementary school?”

“Fifth grade, was it?”

Kazama nods. “We met in Sendai, where I’m originally from. How about you, Ninomiya-san? Where are you from?”

“I’m from Tokyo,” says Nino, still grinning. He angles his elbow on the table and props his chin up with the heel of his hand. “But my dad’s work moved us around a lot, so I grew up in a few places.”

“Ah, I think Aiba-kun mentioned you guys met in Iwate?”

“We did. We were in the same school for a little over a year. He was a year older, but we somehow became friends.”

Aiba wonders why Nino doesn’t just tell Kazama already. He clears his throat and looks at Nino. “Kazapon works at Disneyland. I’ve told you, right?”

“Disneyland! I haven’t been since I was in elementary school. What’s it like now?” Nino asks Kazama.

Kazama does a quick mental calculation. “I’m twenty-seven, so if we’re talking twenty years ago, thereabouts… That’s the early nineties… You’ve never taken Pooh’s Hunny Hunt,” says Kazama, eyes wide in realisation.

“What’s that?”

“It’s this ride in Fantasyland, and it’s super popular. The entrance is this area that looks like a storybook—it sort of introduces you to the story of the ride—and then you come to these large honey pots, which you actually get into, and journey through the track. It’s super cute.” Kazama pauses. “Am I boring you? I’m told I get really involved in my Disney talk.”

Nino gives a slight wave to dismiss Kazama’s worries. “I want to hear about your work. Go on.”

It’s then that Aiba gets it. Nino is _waiting_. He’s seeing how long it takes for Kazama to ask if he’s Ninomiya Kazunari. Aiba doesn’t know whether to laugh or cry. He’s not entirely opposed to playing Kazama like this—Aiba’s no saint, he likes a good joke when it’s at the expense of someone whom he knows can take it—but it still makes him a little nervous to have _Nino_ be the one playing Kazama, especially since it’s the first time they’re meeting.

The beers arrive, and they order some snacks before toasting each other; the topic then shifts to Nino’s job. He’s vague about it, but doesn’t deny that he’s a musician. When asked about his genre, he says pop. Kazama then asks if Nino has composed for anyone famous. Nino says he’s written a few songs for People. Aiba is _dying_ for Kazama to ask at this point, but all Kazama does is compliment Nino’s coolness and ask everyone if they want more beer.

The evening passes, Kazama getting more and more comfortable with Nino, asking Nino about all sorts of things Aiba has never thought to ask, like who Nino’s favourite movie director is, and if he’s ever watched films from Hong Kong, because that’s what Kazama is really into right now. Aiba is simultaneously impressed and intrigued when Nino actually names a couple of people Aiba has never heard of before, and Kazama actually pumps his fist several times in delight when Nino says for Hong Kong cinema he’s watched Peter Chan’s ‘Perhaps Love’, and quite likes it. Aiba is floored, because he totally knows that film as well—he was in Singapore when it took the country by storm—and would never have guessed either of them to have watched it. There seems to be a whole world to Nino that Kazama is helping to uncover; it’s something Aiba didn’t expect at all, what with the way the evening started.

The time comes for them to part ways; Aiba does the sneaky thing and pays for all of them on the way to the toilet (he’s been saving quite a lot on transport, thanks to Suzu), and Kazama is horrified, because he was the one who asked Aiba out, and he tries to shove some notes into Aiba’s hand. Aiba says he’s the one who invited a friend, so he should pay; Nino, having donned his cap and mask, just bows at the two of them and thanks them for the fun night out.

Aiba and Nino get into a taxi, Kazama waving them off as he heads for the train station, and Aiba realises Nino never told Kazama who he really is, and Kazama never asked.

“I get why he’s your best friend,” says Nino, a few minutes into the drive. “He kinda reminds me of you.”

“Really,” muses Aiba. “I’ve never thought that before.”

“Yeah. You’re both really nice people, good at reading the atmosphere, attentive. He’s a bit more socially adept, though.” Nino grins. “You’re kinda awkward around strangers.”

“I was really surprised when you told him you’re my roommate, though.”

“That was a test.” Nino smirks. “He passed.”

“Did he, you know, confirm your identity when I went to the toilet?”

“He didn’t, actually. But I’m sure he figured things out somewhere around the time we started talking about me writing songs. It’s why he asked me about the films. He knows what I do.”

“ _I_ know what you do, and it’s never crossed my mind that you watch movies.”

“What, you think I was born for this job?” Nino laughs. “I put in the work, you know.”

“No, I’m saying you game all the time. Since when do you have time to watch films?”

“I have breaks at work. And you’re not home _all_ the time; you don’t know exactly what I do when I’m alone.”

“I know you help vacuum, and you also clean the bathrooms.”

Nino laughs. “Thanks for noticing.”

Then, Aiba’s phone buzzes noisily; he takes it out of his pocket and unlocks the screen. There’s a string of messages from Kazama.

 _WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK, YOUR ROOMMATE IS FREAKING NINO FROM PEOPLE, I DIED, HE’S SO COOL_ , reads the first, followed by:

_oh my god I can’t believe I wasn’t a fan before OH MY GOD HE LIKES PERHAPS LOVE!!!!!! i think i’m in love with him and it’s all your fault. BUT THANK YOU_

And the last one goes:

_WAS THE PAST HOUR AND A HALF EVEN REAL?? IS HE REAL???????? TEXT BACK_

Aiba snorts, then puts the phone back into his pocket.

He’ll reply tomorrow.

***

“Aiba-san,” calls Nino, and Aiba pokes his head out of the kitchen to see Nino walking towards him, arm outstretched, showing him the screen of his new iPhone. There’s a picture on it.

“Oh, wow,” says Aiba. It’s their mothers, waving at the camera as they ride a dog sled across a majestic expanse of snow. The caption reads ‘Lake Baikal 2009, with Kazuko-san’.

“Your mum just uploaded it,” says Nino.

Aiba looks at Nino curiously. “Did you sign up for Facebook?”

“Yeah.”

Aiba thinks about how his mother’s account is relatively private, and how she never adds strangers to her Facebook friends. “And you used your real name?”

“Yeah.”

“ _Why?_ ”

“It’s fine! There’s no picture! And the kanji for my name is open to interpretation.”

“Just be careful, okay?”

“Yeah, I’m just using it to follow your mum.”

“That sounds _so_ weird.”

Nino laughs. “She knows, I texted her. Those two are in Siberia for two weeks, Maa-kun. _In winter. By themselves_. It’s so foreign. Your mum’s uploads give me peace of mind.”

“Lake Baikal,” muses Aiba. “They get a lot of earthquakes there. Big ones.”

“Uh, thanks, that’s comforting?”

“No, I mean you’re right.” Aiba laughs, going back into the kitchen to check how the curry is stewing. “We should be more worried.”

Nino looks down at the phone again. “Oh. Yuusuke just commented on the photo.”

“What did he say?”

“‘Huskies’, with tons of exclamation marks.” Nino chuckles. “I just sent him a friend request.”

“ _Nino._ Your agency has rules for this, I bet.”

“But he knows me! And there aren’t a lot of Japanese people on Facebook, stop worrying. My birthday’s not even real on here.”

Aiba sighs. “Okay.” He presses the switch on the gas stove, turning the fire off, and goes to wash his hands. “There’s gonna be curry for breakfast, I’ll lay it out for you before I leave. You’ve got Tokyo Dome tomorrow, better have something in the morning since you’ve got rehearsal—”

He’s interrupted by arms winding around his waist, and he laughs as Nino nuzzles the curve of his neck.

“I know we’ve got a good thing going,” says Nino, “and I know you want to be careful. The hamburg steak thing scared you. I know. But this Facebook thing is okay. Really. I’ve played enough multi-players to know how to protect myself on the internet.”

Aiba starts drying his hands on the towel hanging by the sink. “Okay.” He tilts his head to smile at Nino. “Love you.”

It’s not the first time he’s said it; and it’s not the heavy version, just the two syllables; but from the way Nino is looking at him it seems like it’s touched Nino a lot more than Aiba had intended.

Nino pushes on Aiba’s waist to turn him so they’re facing each other, then pulls him down so their mouths can meet. It starts quite innocently, until Nino presses his hips up into Aiba’s and whimpers when he finds out Aiba is also wanting. The next moment is all motion, all lips and limbs and friction as they stagger towards Aiba’s room, and minutes later Aiba has his back against the headboard of his bed, knees apart, keening as Nino’s head bobs between his legs, tongue and lips teasing the soft, sensitive surface of Aiba’s scrotum. When Aiba is sufficiently hard, Nino takes the head of Aiba’s cock into his mouth; he then pulls on Aiba’s hand, and places it on the back of his skull. His eyes flick up, imploring.

“You sure?” asks Aiba, his voice a throaty rasp. Nino gives an assenting grunt.

So Aiba threads his fingers in Nino’s hair and they start to move, and when Nino shoves his hands under Aiba’s ass and starts kneading, Aiba gets pushed so far he releases his hold on Nino's head to bite on his knuckles so he doesn’t just let go. Nino just smiles at this, slides his lips high, starts sucking at the head.

They sleep in Nino’s room that night because they’ve run out of clean sheets to put on Aiba’s bed—Aiba wanted to watch Nino come a certain way, the stains were inevitable—and Aiba thinks about how he’s never really been a fan of sex until now. He’s always known what arousal was—that, he’s experienced frequently since puberty, sometimes it even catches him by surprise—but this is different. This is complete, utter attraction. The newness of it makes Aiba feel like a stranger to himself, but in the best of ways. He understands this feeling as something that brings him so, so close to Nino—not just physically, but in a psychological realm that Aiba isn’t even sure can be explained with science.

It’s cold now, so after Nino switches off the heat for the night they snuggle together under Nino’s comforter, holding hands. A while later Nino stretches to reach Aiba’s cheek, kissing him and saying good night. Aiba is already half-asleep, and mumbles something about Nino, and Facebook, and curry in the morning.

***

“Aiba Masaki!” hisses a voice in Aiba’s ear as cold hands wrap around his neck, making him yelp and cower. He turns, seeing Vivian clutching her belly and cackling. Aiba walks over and taps her lightly on the forehead, chiding.

“You scared me.”

“Sorry.” Vivian grins without remorse, holding out her arms for a hug. “Did you have a good day at school?”

“I did. We had a test on roping and I tied all the knots right.” Aiba gives her the hug, forgiving her earlier trick. “Are you hungry?”

“A little.” She looks around the street. They’ve arranged to meet right outside the exit of the station. “Why are we meeting in Sailor Moon Town?”

Aiba laughs. Trust Vivian to know her Japanese pop culture.

They’re at Azabu-juuban, which, apart from it being his and Nino’s neighbourhood, is where the Sailor Moon series was set. It’s a Friday evening, the first day People performs at Tokyo Dome. Vivian is, once again, in town for the concert, except she’s going the next two evenings. Aiba is very impressed at how she manages to get tickets every year. She apparently has a system in place: a lot of people share their fanclub memberships with her, and she’s got friends in Japan who are lending her their addresses.

Aiba starts walking. “I wanted to give you a treat, and I’m familiar with this area, so.”

“Why the sudden treat?”

“Because you’re one of my best friends, and I only get to see you when People has a concert!” Aiba playfully swats at her pony tail.

“That’s not true, I came with my parents for their holiday, remember?”

“That makes it two times a year.”

“We saw each other even less when you lived in Singapore!”

“That’s different. That only happened after you went back to Taiwan. You spent six months in Singapore! I saw you _every day_ then!”

“It really puzzles me how I ended up your best friend from uni when I was only an exchange student.” Vivian shakes her head. “What happened to the people from your year?”

“We didn’t really know each other. It’s the way uni works, I guess. Most people there were closer to their friends from high school.” Because of the conversation, Aiba almost misses a turn; he stops to steer Vivian by the shoulders into a small street.

“Where are we going?” asks Vivian.

“I’m taking you to a beer bar.”

“Aw!” Vivian slaps Aiba on the arm. “You know me so well!”

Vivian chatters about how she managed to be third in line for concert goods yesterday morning. She’s staying at the Tokyo Dome Hotel just so she could be in the goods line at 4 AM; it was just her and a couple of others. Aiba remembers his experience last year and tells Vivian how cheated he felt when he entered the dome itself and saw he could buy an uchiwa from the booth inside, which had no queue. Vivian argues that Aiba hadn’t told her he was only going to buy _one_ uchiwa; why they got in line so early and waited so long was to get all the limited edition stuff. Aiba hadn’t understood the concept then, and grudgingly confesses he didn’t realise uchiwas weren’t limited edition.

They get to the bar. Aiba’s made a reservation so they’re immediately shown to their table. Vivian immediately starts scrutinising the menu, murmuring more to herself than to Aiba about the differences in the IPAs offered and debating on which one she should order first.

One thing Aiba really likes about Vivian is how she’s full of curiosity and, consequently, knowledge. She has so many interests and so many skills that no matter who she meets, she finds something in common with them. Aiba is looking forward to have her meet Nino in a few hours. She’d charm his socks off.

Vivian doesn’t know she’s meeting Nino. She doesn’t even know Aiba lives in Azabu-juuban; ever since that day in Disneyland he told her he’s not comfortable revealing anything about his living situation she’s been respectful of that area of his privacy, and has never pried further. Aiba can only imagine how much self-control it takes, since she’s such a big People fan. But Vivian is professional that way—it might be weird to describe her approach to friendship as ‘professional’, but Aiba can’t think of a better word. She’s just so good at being considerate, at treating people the way they want to be treated.

It was Nino’s idea to surprise Vivian. Aiba’s plan had been a lot simpler; he’d just wanted to invite her over and introduce her to Nino as one of his best friends. Nino then said if Aiba had so many good things to say about Vivian, then they should do something really memorable for her. It made Aiba realise that Nino is serious about wanting to get to know his friends. He doesn’t just want to know about Aiba’s life; he wants to be a part of it. That’s why he asked to meet Kazama, and now he wants to meet Vivian.

Still, they have to wait a couple of hours before Aiba brings Vivian back to the apartment. The concert is until nine, which means Nino will be back at 10 at the earliest; it’s only eight, so Aiba has to occupy Vivian for two hours.

It’s not difficult; they do have a lot to catch up on. After two drinks Vivian starts telling Aiba how she hasn’t been seeing Yuusuke much lately because of her job. Aiba wonders if it’s his place to ask her about how things are with them—his brother has been very quiet about Vivian lately—but Vivian tells him herself.

“He’s a really, really good man,” says Vivian. “I mean, you should know; he’s your brother.”

Aiba nods, his lips twitching into a smile. “He’s good at looking out for people.”

Vivian asks Aiba to repeat what he just said; she couldn’t catch the Japanese. Aiba says it slower this time, and pairs it with the Mandarin translation. Vivian nods, wagging a finger to agree.

“He _is_ very good at that. He does make me feel taken care of. Also, it just struck me—and no offence to you—his Chinese is _so_ good. I can speak to him without using Japanese at all.”

“He sounds perfect,” Aiba grins, “though I sense a ‘but’.”

Vivian downs her drink and smacks her lips. “Well, there’s you,” she says offhandedly.

Smile vanishing, Aiba goes stock still. Seconds tick by as he thinks of what to say. Vivian is scanning the menu for something else to order and seems oblivious to the awkward pause.

“Vivian,” Aiba makes his voice as gentle as he can, “we talked about this.” He purses his lips, hesitating, and she gazes back dumbly.

“…Oh, not that!” Vivian finally cottons on, dismissing Aiba’s assumption with a frenzied wave. “I’m not holding out for something with you. I’m just worried if by some nasty cosmic arrangement things don’t work out with your brother, it’ll affect my relationship with you. I don’t want it to be weird. I mean…” Vivian literally claws at the air, searching for the words. It’s very cute, and it makes Aiba laugh. “Like, I don’t want you to stop being my friend because you’re mindful of his feelings.”

“He won’t think that there’s anything between us,” says Aiba.

“You understand him as your little brother, Aiba-chan. It’s not the same. He might get jealous even if he doesn’t want to. I’ve had to reassure him a few times that we’re not together.”

Aiba has the urge to confess he’s currently in a relationship with someone else, and he has no intention of being with anyone but that person. But saying that will entail being candid about other things that Aiba feels isn’t time to confess—not tonight at least—so he holds his tongue.

“I’ll talk to him, if you want me to,” says Aiba.

“No, no. I don’t want him to think I talk to you about him.” Vivian sighs. “You’re special to me, you know? Most guys try and get to know me because they want to date me, but you’ve never made me feel that way. It sounds so awful when I say it like that, I know, like I think I’m super hot or whatever. I do think I’m hot, sure, but I look this way for myself, not for other people! Definitely not because I want to attract men.”

“I don’t think Yuusuke likes you just because of how you look. He’s not that superficial.”

“I’m not saying he likes me because I’m hot, but he does likes me, and I can’t help but think me being hot is a part of it, and I _really_ don’t want it to be. It’s stupid, I know. Attraction is attraction, I shouldn’t want to police it.” Vivian shoots Aiba a forlorn look. “Aiba-chan, I know we don’t normally talk about serious things, but only because we both want to be that friend with that… what’s the Japanese expression? Not the idiom, the other one.” Vivian tells Aiba the Mandarin idiom she’s thinking of; Aiba doesn’t know it, so Vivian grabs a napkin and a pen and writes the words down. Aiba’s kanji skills are, thankfully, sufficient to decode the phrase.

“Oh,” Aiba taps a fingertip on the table, “I think you’re thinking of ‘ _tsukazu hanarezu_ ’.”

“Yes, that’s the one,” Vivian pats Aiba on the arm, “‘not too close, but not too far’. That’s us. Just the right distance. We keep this distance because we care. That’s why I don’t talk to you about my relationship woes. We have other people in our lives for that. But today’s the exception, okay? Because he’s your brother, and you’re actually a lot more important to me than I let on.”

Aiba laughs. He agrees, but he also finds it important to say:

“For what it’s worth, if we ever need to bridge that distance, I have no objections.” He nudges Vivian’s empty beer glass with his own. “Just occasionally, though. I like our mindless conversations.”

“ _Yeah_ ,” says Vivian. “Me too. Remember the time we were in the canteen watching people, and this guy was picking his nose, and we started wondering about what the scientific name for boogers was?” Vivian closes her eyes, her expression tranquil. “That was one horrific but intensely satisfying image search.”

Aiba cracks up. He barely remembers that incident, but yes, that was the sort of thing he enjoyed with Vivian back in uni. They’d both been past 20 at the time and it was hardly becoming of their age, but they didn’t care then, and Aiba thinks they shouldn’t care now. They each order another beer, and Vivian holds out her glass for a toast. Aiba clinks his against hers, and they drink.

Instinctively they both know the talk about Yuusuke is over; they start a series of debates about which beer has the friendliest name, the most efficient way to seal a tea bag, and Nutella versus Marmite. Vivian then starts talking about her undying love for People, and they spend a long discourse on whose voice they like most, and why Ohno’s voice sounds like an abstraction of sex.

Vivian is obviously comfortable with Aiba, and after her explanation about how she doesn’t feel like Aiba is interested in her romantically, it makes him a little more understanding of her worries. She treasures this friendship because she can still be herself—albeit just one facet of herself, though it doesn’t make the relationship any less real. It’s a unique dynamic she doesn’t share with anyone else.

The next time Aiba looks at the clock it’s past 10, so he decides to check his phone to see if Nino’s home yet. There’s a text message from him received two minutes ago, saying he’ll be back by ten-thirty, and everything will be in place by ten-fifty.

At ten-thirty Aiba sobers them up by ordering two tall glasses of water, and as she puts on her coat Vivian bows and thanks him for the treat, and the good time.

“I have one more place to take you,” says Aiba. “You’re not going back to the dome yet.”

“But it’s late,” says Vivian, although she’s smiling widely. “I can’t miss the last train.”

“I’ll pay for your cab fare if it comes to that. Come on. It won’t take too long.” Aiba takes her by the wrist to lead her out of the bar.

The apartment is a five-minute walk away. They walk out to the main road and have to wait at a light, so Aiba takes the chance to check his phone for messages. There’s another one from Nino.

 _Ready_ , reads the message. Perfect. Aiba taps back a reply to tell Nino they’re on their way, and hits Send. Nino is going to walk out of the kitchen once Vivian is in the apartment. Aiba can’t wait to see the look on her face.

“Where are we going next?” asks Vivian as they walk.

“There.” Aiba points vaguely in the direction of his apartment complex.

Vivian laughs. “Very helpful.” She looks up at Aiba, squinting at him. “Honestly, though—what’s the occasion?”

Aiba takes some time to think about this. “I have a lot to thank you for, I guess.” Aiba doesn’t look Vivian in the eye, suddenly bashful. He doesn’t know how to explain without revealing his relationship with Nino, that without Vivian’s enthusiasm for People, he probably wouldn’t have reconnected with Nino the way he had. After all, Yuusuke had tried for years, in vain, to get him interested in what Nino was up to. The difference between Yuusuke and Vivian is how Vivian truly loves the group, and Yuusuke does not. For a long time, there’d been a part of Aiba that was too embarrassed to tell Yuusuke he wanted to get to know Nino through People, but Vivian had been just enough stranger and friend at the time to get him started.

“You’ve been there for me in ways you can’t imagine,” Aiba decides to say, squeezing Vivian’s shoulder. “Just remember that.”

Vivian puts her hand over her heart. “Aiba Masaki,” she says, giving him a saccharine smile.

Aiba copies her, placing his hand on his chest. “Vivian Hsu.” They laugh, and Aiba points to the building up front. They’re almost there.

“What’s this place?” asks Vivian, tipping her head all the way back to look up at the complex towering above them. “A hotel? Wait, what?” She shies away, crossing her hands in front of her chest and clutching her shoulders with a dramatic cry.

Aiba laughs at her charade. “Don’t be silly. It’s not a hotel.” He takes her by the elbow and leads her in.

They enter the lobby, where they’re greeted by the security personnel manning the front desk, and Aiba smiles at them, giving them a nod, before scanning his keycard at the reader in front of the lifts; there is a soothing ‘ping’ as the doors of one of them open.

“Wait, if that’s the key…” says Vivian, following Aiba into the lift. Her expression is one of awe. “Your - _Nino’s_ apartment?”

Aiba applauds her. “That’s right!”

“No way.” Vivian starts frowning at the electronic panel that shows the floors they’re passing. “Oh god, I hope you told Nino that I’m visiting. It’s gonna be super weird if he comes home and finds, like, my hair on the sofa or something. I’ve had roommates before, I know.” Vivian dumps her face in her hands, and starts taking deep breaths. “But I can’t believe I’m getting to see the inside of his home!” She gives a small scream, then pinches her cheeks to make sure she isn’t dreaming.

There’s something off about how Vivian is relatively calm about all this. It takes a moment before realisation dawns. She doesn’t think Nino will be home. Aiba wants to laugh. It’s great for the surprise, though.

They get to the 21st floor—the lift opens into a corridor that’s presided by a single door. Vivian makes a strangled, high-pitched sound and grabs onto Aiba’s arm. “Oh my god. _Nino’s door_.”

Aiba chuckles. “It’s also my door, you know.”

“Yes, but over the past few months I’ve managed to suppress my curiosity about the whole ‘Aiba-chan lives with Nino’ thing, with excellent results.” Vivian shuffles on her feet nervously. “This is coming at me all at once. It’s too real, I’m not sure I’m prepared for it.”

“Well, you'd better be,” says Aiba as he unlocks the door with his keycard and invites Vivian in. She hesitates for just a moment before stepping into the entryway. Aiba flicks on the lights, and waits for her to finish taking off her boots.

“Oh my god,” Vivian mutters as she pulls her right boot off. “Oh my god. What is happening?”

Aiba stretches his arms over his head, grinning. “Relax. You’re in my home. Aiba-chan’s home.”

“I didn’t even visit your home in Singapore. Not that it’d make me less nervous if I did.” Vivian is finally free of her shoes. She joins Aiba in the living room. “Okay,” she says, taking a deep breath, “first of all: _wow_. The ceiling is so high!”

There’s a click, and the kitchen door swings open.

“Hey, you guys—smile.” Nino puts the viewfinder of the instant camera he’s holding to his eye; Vivian screams, clutching onto Aiba’s arm before covering her mouth with her hand; Aiba dissolves into giggles, and there’s a flash from the camera, followed by a whirring sound. “Let’s hope this turns out okay,” murmurs Nino as he plucks the photo from the ejection slot. He smiles at Aiba and Vivian as he flaps the photo. “Welcome home, Aiba-kun. And hello, Vivian. Nice to meet you.”

Vivian has hidden her face in Aiba’s sleeve, chanting ‘What should I do?’ over and over again in Mandarin. Aiba tries to pry his arm out of Vivian’s grip, but she doesn’t let go.

“Vivian.” Nino puts down the camera and walks over. “Can I have Aiba-chan back for a moment?”

Upon hearing Nino’s request, Vivian automatically releases Aiba, though she’s keeping her eyes squeezed shut. She doesn’t move. Nino points at her and mouths:

_She’s so nervous!_

“Vivian?” calls Aiba, touching Vivian’s elbow.

“G-give me a moment,” says Vivian, cracking her eyelids open for a peek at Nino before shutting them tightly again. “Oh my god, it’s really him.”

Aiba goes to sit on the sofa, starting to feel guilty for putting Vivian through so much emotional turmoil. “Vivian, come sit down.” Aiba sniffs the air, and realises what Nino meant when he texted that everything would be in place by ten-fifty. “Don’t you smell coffee, Vivian? I smell coffee. Look, Nino-chan’s going to get us all some coffee.”

Nino obediently heads back into the kitchen. When he’s out of sight, Vivian finally unfreezes herself and trots over to where Aiba is, arms stiffly extended by her side. “Sorry,” she says, stopping to stand in front of him. She claps her hands on his shoulders. “I’m a mess,” she moans, shaking him back and forth.

Aiba laughs. “I can see that.” He pats the spot beside him and Vivian sits down, finally shedding her crossbody bag and her coat. She then turns to Aiba, looking alarmed. “Is my makeup okay?”

The question is so unexpected that Aiba can’t help but collapse sideways in laughter. Vivian whips out a powder compact from her bag and gives a small shriek as she looks in the mirror. “My eyeliner’s smudged.”

“You’re still pretty,” insists Aiba.

“So this is the surprise, right?” asks Vivian as she starts to wipe under her eyes.

“Absolutely,” says Aiba. “Are you okay? Sorry if it’s made you uncomfortable.”

“Oh, no—I love it, but somehow my brain can’t handle it.” Vivian snaps the compact shut, then takes out a small plastic tube. It’s tinted lip balm, and Aiba marvels as he watches Vivian apply it without a mirror. She can even talk as she does it. “Ever since I knew both you and Yuusuke are friends with Nino I’ve held out hopes of meeting him, but never like this. I mean, how could anyone imagine _this_?”

Aiba lets out a merry laugh. “It was Nino’s idea to surprise you.”

Vivian arches her eyebrows. “No way.”

“It’s true,” comes Nino’s voice from the kitchen, and Vivian claps her hands over her mouth, but she’s only hiding a grin.

“I’ve told him a lot about you.” Aiba is pretty sure the smile he’s giving Vivian is goofy and fawning, but he doesn’t care. He’s feeling very pleased that two of his favourite people are about to get to know each other.

“I’m having some serious heart palpitations right now,” says Vivian, patting her chest. She drops her voice. “Under any other circumstances, being invited to a man’s home only to find his male roommate being extra welcoming can be a very scary thing, so I hope you see this is how much I trust you.”

Aiba nods. He gets it. “You don’t have to worry, Nino’s a gentleman.”

“I am,” says Nino, coming out of the kitchen with two cups of coffee. He sets them down in front of Vivian and Aiba before sitting on the floor by the coffee table. “How many beers did you guys have?”

“Three?” Aiba looks at Vivian. “Was it three?”

“Four,” says Vivian, pointing to herself. She then points to Aiba, finally looking at Nino. “Two.”

“I have to work tomorrow,” stresses Aiba. “I can’t be hungover at daycare, it’s inappropriate.”

Nino remembers something and leans forward to speak to Vivian. “Hey, do you want milk or sugar in your coffee?”

“Milk sounds good.” There is still a hint of shyness in Vivian’s voice.

Nino turns to Aiba. “She wants milk.”

“I _knew_ you’d do that,” says Aiba, already getting up from his seat. Nino is giving him one of his smuggest smiles, the one that shrinks his eyes and emphasises the lines by his mouth. It’s paralysingly cute, but Aiba isn’t going to admit it, and chooses instead to grouse all the way to the kitchen. Aiba hears Nino tell Vivian about how he’s heard she’s a Sho fan. She claims, loudly, that she likes Nino too, and Nino erupts into giggles as Vivian hastily denies any romantic notions in her liking. Aiba then reenters the living room with the milk and a beer for Nino, just as Vivian is telling Nino she’s sorry about disturbing him tonight, since he must be tired after spending the whole day at Tokyo Dome.

“It’s okay, his call time isn’t that early tomorrow,” says Aiba, handing Vivian the milk and a spoon to stir with. He doesn’t want her to feel bad for something she hadn’t planned for. “Here,” he turns to Nino, holding out the beer. “I noticed you didn’t pour coffee for yourself, and figured out why.”

“Thanks,” says Nino, grinning. “So, Vivian—want to tell me how much you love Sho-chan? Get it all out of your system? I’ll pass a message on for you, if you want.”

Vivian laughs, the first real laugh she’s given since she’s entered the apartment. “No thanks. My feelings for Sho-kun can be found on the internet by googling ‘reasons to love Sakurai Sho’. I’m not too different from any other fan.”

“Says the person who compares Yuusuke to Sho-kun,” Aiba says into his cup right before he takes a sip of his coffee.

“Go easy on Yuusuke, Vivian. We love him,” Nino chimes in.

“That’s just something I say, it’s not for real.” Vivian swats her hand in Aiba’s direction, as if to bat his accusation out of the air. “Wait,” she turns to Nino, “you know about…?”

“Yuusuke and you? Oh yeah.” Nino raises his can of beer towards Aiba lazily. “He tells me everything.”

Vivian lowers her eyelids, shooting Aiba a baleful look. “Everything?”

“You can’t blame me, Nino’s my—” Aiba starts to protest, when he realises he doesn’t know what to call Nino in front of Vivian, but Nino and Vivian fill in the blanks.

“—One true love,” the both of them chorus, before drawing back, surprised, though they start laughing soon after.

“He’s said it enough times,” says Vivian to Nino. “When we first met he said he didn’t have a favourite People member but after that Tokoton Family episode aired everything was Nino this, Nino that—”

Aiba is bouncing across the sofa, trying to tackle Vivian to cup his hand over her mouth, but she’s too quick for him, leaping up to her feet and running to the other side of the living room, leaving Aiba grasping air.

“Go on, Vivian, tell me more.” Nino eggs her on, and Aiba groans.

Vivian shakes her head, guffawing. “He embarrasses himself enough, I don’t want to do it for him.”

Nino cracks a laugh. “I like how you think.”

Aiba holds up his hands. “If you guys want to bond at my expense, I’m not entirely opposed to it,” he says, though he knows they’re not exactly punishing him; Vivian only stopped teasing him because she sensed his embarrassment, and spun it into a taunt to give Nino something to bounce off of. These are two of the most emotionally intelligent people he knows.

“I have to tell Yuusuke I got to come here tonight,” says Vivian, sporting an impish grin. “He’ll be so jealous!”

“Oh yeah—we’ve asked him over before, the last time we hung out, but he had an early start the next morning.” Nino remembers.

“He’s coming to Japan again,” says Vivian. “In March, I think? I might come with him. I don’t know yet.”

“Wait, so you and Yuusuke are _together_ together?” asks Nino. He exchanges a look with Aiba, who shakes his head. He doesn’t know.

“We’re like, eighty per cent together.” Vivian laughs.

“And the last twenty per cent?” Nino probes.

Vivian shrugs. “We’ll spend the rest of our lives figuring it out, hopefully?”

“The rest of your lives,” repeats Nino. “Wow. You guys are pretty serious, then.”

“Yeah. There are still some kinks to iron out, but we’re getting there.”

It’s the first time Aiba has heard anything concrete about Vivian’s relationship status with his brother, and it makes Aiba want to celebrate. It’s extremely comforting, since he loves them so much and, despite his silence on the matter, has been genuinely concerned. It’s funny how Vivian could so easily confess things about her relationship with Yuusuke to Nino and not to him, but he gets it. Aiba’s too close to either of them.

Vivian leaves with two Polaroids: the one taken earlier, of her looking completely aghast and Aiba laughing his head off; and a later one of the three of them, beaming at the camera and flashing peace signs. Aiba sends her off in a taxi, and when he comes back to the apartment, he finds Nino getting ready for bed.

“Vivian’s pretty special,” says Nino, opening the bathroom door. He smiles at Aiba. “It’s interesting to think about how she could be family someday.” He disappears into the bathroom, shutting the door.

It takes a few seconds for Aiba to compute. “Wait—what did you say?” Aiba tries opening the bathroom door, but Nino has locked it.

“You heard what I said,” says Nino.

“Yeah, but what do you mean? What ‘family’? _Whose_ family?”

“Would you please let me poop in peace?”

“Are you talking about my family, or yours?”

“There are two other bathrooms in this house, Aiba-san.”

Aiba whines a little longer, but Nino doesn’t answer. Still, it doesn’t stop him from hugging himself and rolling himself along the wall, grinning; Nino’s ambiguity hints at something far away yet promising, and it makes Aiba’s heart soar as he allows himself to imagine.

***

The start of 2010 gives Nino two days off, the first of which he uses to sleep in. He only gets up past four in the afternoon since he had to perform at both NHK Hall and Tokyo Dome the previous night, after which he attended a Tommy’s and Associates event where eating, drinking and praying at a shrine happened. He came home at five in the morning.

By the time Nino rouses, Aiba has returned from his own hatsumoude at the nearby Zoujou-ji (he prayed for good health for all the people and animals he cares about; and for peace in the universe), finished Skyping his parents for a New Year greeting, made and had lunch, and showered because he’s going with Nino to his mother’s for dinner.

Aiba’s the one who set the alarm on Nino’s phone, choosing a time that allowed Nino ample sleep, but will still keep them punctual for their appointment with Nino’s family. When he hears the alarm go off, Aiba goes into Nino’s room, draws the blackout curtains open but keeps the sheer ones closed to let in the light, then flings himself onto Nino’s bed, landing on his tummy. He scuffles across the mattress to get closer to Nino. “Hey.” Aiba takes Nino’s phone and helps him switch the alarm off. “Happy New Year.”

Nino yawns widely. He looks up, making sense of the patterns the sun’s rays are casting on the ceiling and the walls, then props himself up on his elbow, turning to the window. “It’s getting dark.”

“Yeah.”

“I haven’t woken up this late in a while.” Nino rubs at his eyes, falling back on his pillow with a sigh.

“Still tired?” asks Aiba.

Nino nods. Heavy-lidded, he reaches out to place a hand on the side of Aiba’s neck, keeps it there. Aiba bends down to kiss his cheek, then lies on his side to admire Nino’s profile, superimposed against the light that’s filtering past the filmy curtains, a poetic silhouette.

“I like your face,” says Aiba, tracing his fingertip down the bridge of Nino’s nose. “You’re so pretty.”

“I kind of have to be. It’s my livelihood.”

“I’ve never really noticed, though.” Aiba’s finger moves down to Nino’s lips. He continues tracing, memorising their shape, then skims to Nino’s cheekbones. His finger pauses atop the mole on Nino’s right cheek. “I’ve got one here too,” says Aiba, pressing his finger into the flesh.

Nino laughs softly. “I know.”

“You’re so pretty,” Aiba says again, because it’s striking him only now how much he likes Nino as an aesthetic. It’s always been secondary—and will always be—but right now it’s making him pay attention in a way he hasn’t before.

Then Nino tightens his hold on Aiba’s neck, rushes forward, and blows a raspberry on his throat. Aiba doesn’t even flinch. He’s just entertained.

“How are you not ticklish?” cries Nino, offended.

“That’s not my spot,” says Aiba simply.

Nino cracks a laugh. “Damn. Just when you think you know a person.”

Aiba laughs, then decides they’ve procrastinated enough. He sits up, pulling on Nino’s wrists. “Come on, Kazu. We’re going to your mum’s tonight, remember?”

“Just a while more,” says Nino, and the way he pronounces it—it’s so cute, and he’s accented it with a whine. Aiba is weak to that, so he gives in and lies by Nino’s side once more. The amber rays of sunset have vanished from the walls, dimming the room; the sun is just about retired for today.

“Maa-kun, where’s the button I gave you?” asks Nino suddenly.

“The one from your uniform?” Aiba points at the door, towards his room. “It’s in the bedside drawer, back there.”

Nino holds Aiba’s gaze for a second, then shimmies up the mattress to reach his own bedside cabinet. He opens the top drawer and takes out a leather drawstring pouch that's wrinkled and fraying, worn with age. He gives the pouch to Aiba, who clutches it in his hand, feeling the hardness of the button within pressing into his palm, bearing testament to all the years Nino has loved him. Aiba smiles, feeling insurmountable joy.

Aiba pushes himself up to kneel on the mattress. He looks at the pouch in his hand, then at Nino. There’s only one thought on his mind.

“Can I marry you someday?”

They look at each other for a long moment, in that room now coloured dusk, Aiba’s anticipation keen and pronounced in the silence. Nino gives a short laugh, and he reaches out to squeeze Aiba’s hand before making a move to get off the bed. Aiba doesn’t let go, gripping Nino's fingers to wag his hand, prompting him for an answer.

Nino still doesn’t say anything. He's smirking, and yanks his hand out of Aiba’s before heading for the bathroom. Aiba scrambles off the bed to follow him. He catches Nino’s hips, making Nino stop and turn. His grin hasn’t faded. Nino then points to the pouch that’s still in Aiba’s hand.

“That’s from my one true love, I’d appreciate it if you could put it back.”

There’s a beat, then Aiba grabs Nino around the waist and shoves his face against Nino’s neck to blow a loud, obnoxious raspberry. Nino screeches and yells for Aiba to let go, but he’s laughing through it all, and Aiba takes a deep breath before going for another one.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don’t know why they’re constantly on morning menus, but curry is something Japanese people eat for breakfast. (I live in Japan, and have embraced this practice.)
> 
> There are a lot of issues that happen between couples that arise because of sex, and I thought I'd throw a spotlight on one not commonly talked about. I like creating stories that mimic real life ^^;;
> 
> For me, as a demisexual, I really do feel sexual attraction to my own one true love, and that person only. It's entirely possible to be polyamorous even if you're demisexual, but for me that is not the case. So far I've only connected deeply enough with one person in my life to want to sleep with them, and I ended up marrying said person, so.
> 
> Regarding Nino comparing women to Gundam models: this is actually lifted from a real life happening. I read a blog that talked about an old episode of Baystorm, on which Nino said his phone wallpaper was a photo of his sister when he was younger. Her body was of a certain ratio in the photo (I think Nino took the photo) and he said people would ask him who's the girl in the photo, and he would say it was his sister, and then they'd ask why she was his wallpaper, and he'd go something like: "Don't you think these proportions are great?" And during the episode he followed up with: "I used to make these plastic models, and they had a certain proportion too..." Still, don't quote me on this, I can't find the blog now (I've been an Arashi fan 15 years, my memories for some things are kind of fuzzy) so just take this tidbit at face-level, please XD
> 
> I thought Vivian’s relationship with Aiba is very similar to the one he shares with Arashi in real life, which is why I purposely wanted to quote UB with the explicit discussion on ‘tsukazu hanarezu’. Also, I tend to write all these situations that bilinguals/multilinguals face in my fics, because it’s something that happens every day for me.
> 
> The scientific name for boogers conversation was an actual conversation and thing that happened to me and one of my best friends. It was a really horrifying image search. There isn’t a scientific name for boogers.
> 
> In real life, Vivian Hsu is currently living in Singapore, which is a stunning coincidence since she’s Aiba-chan’s go-to when asked what his type is. She married a Singaporean man in 2014 and is still active in the entertainment industry. She was very popular in Japan in the ‘90s and has worked with Aiba-chan: once, when he was 18. I watched a few clips of her Japanese TV appearances, researched on her current life and visited her Facebook page to write her in this story, and I really hope I did her justice. She was a household name when I was growing up (I speak Mandarin and did watch some Taiwanese variety shows in the early 2000s) so I do feel a sense of familiarity with this character. Expect to see her in more of my fics.
> 
> In my head 'one true love' is _daihonmei_ (大本命) in Japanese, which gives a different nuance. It's not as heavy, for starters, and it's closer to the term 'absolute favourite'. 
> 
> [HERE](https://oviparousfic.livejournal.com/40899.html) is a really long note I wrote about my intention to include the whole demisexuality thing in this fic. Basically, I wanted to write something I could relate to, and I'm demisexual, so I wrote this. Do read the note if you're curious.


	6. Epilogue

This apartment is smaller, with only two bathrooms, but it’s not a rental. Nino actually owns this place. It’s his first property purchase, and bought with a purpose: he wants to register for the same-sex partnership certificate with Aiba, and only two wards in Tokyo offer it; he doesn't want to live in Shibuya and the Setagaya certificate is easier to apply for (and free), so Setagaya it was. Aiba was kept in the dark until weeks after Nino signed the housing contract; it wasn’t too difficult to do seeing how a zookeeper's hours are worse than an idol’s: Aiba hadn’t been home much ever since Sakurako the gorilla was found to be pregnant for the second time. They didn’t know how far along she was, but Aiba has been taking care of gorillas for the past five years and Sakurako’s previous baby died of natural causes an hour after it was born—infant mortality rates amongst gorillas are, according to Aiba, ridiculously high compared to humans—so Aiba was extra careful with Sakurako, and wanted to be with her as much as possible.

Sakurako gave birth to a baby boy gorilla, and thankfully she was interested in taking care of him, otherwise Aiba and the other zookeepers in charge of the gorillas would have to provide the baby with round-the-clock care and Aiba’s hours would be even weirder.

Nino realises he now knows a fair amount about the habits of gorillas.

Aiba came home the morning of his hard-earned day off to find dozens of packing boxes in the living room and Nino putting stuff into them. At first he thought Nino was leaving him, but Nino announced that they can’t live at the apartment anymore because the lease is up. Aiba panicked, upset that Nino didn’t tell him, but Nino managed to coax Aiba into the car and together they drove to the apartment in Setagaya, Aiba seething the whole way, until Nino took him up to the unit and revealed he already bought the place, then Aiba’s anger turned to shock. Nino told Aiba to go focus on his gorillas, he’ll take care of the move. Aiba, still agitated, asked for the umpteenth time why they were moving at all, and Nino reminded Aiba of Setagaya’s provision for same-sex couples.

It took Aiba four seconds to realise what Nino was doing, then he started to cry.

“You planned all that?” asks Jun, voice pitching, turning to Nino the moment Aiba finishes his story. All Nino offers Jun is a smirk; he takes a sip of his beer, keeping his gaze on Jun, quirking his eyebrows challengingly.

From his spot on the ottoman, Sho looks at Nino, drawing back in awe. “I’m so proud of you, you have no idea. You cared enough to _orchestrate stuff_.” He looks at Aiba. “That’s true love, Aiba-kun. Never let it go.”

Nino feels his face flush hot, and loudly requests for Sho to eat more peanuts.

Ohno looks up from playing with the tab of his beer can. A smile dances on his lips as he leans across the coffee table to grab more of said peanuts, peering at Aiba’s face along the way. “Were you really angry when you saw all the packing boxes? I can’t imagine you angry, you’re always so nice.”

“He was furious.” Nino laughs, pointing at Aiba, who’s gotten embarrassed and is hiding behind his hands. “He gets dangerously quiet when he’s legit angry—you guys probably won’t get to see it, ever—but he was _so_ ticked off that day.”

“I would be too, though. I mean, he spent the entire night watching over a gorilla in labour, and then he comes home to the apartment he’s been living in for the past ten years and you’re like, ‘We have to move!’… I’d freak out too,” says Sho, reaching over to pat Aiba’s shoulder.

Jun lounges back on the rug, studying the living room. “It’s nice, though. Your new place.” He turns to Aiba, grinning. “I hope you like it?”

Aiba looks at Nino before answering. “Well, it could’ve been worse.” Aiba shrugs, sounding nonchalant. This earns him a punch on the arm from Nino, and Aiba giggles gracelessly as he rubs the sore spot.

“I don’t know if I’d say yes, though, if anyone proposes to me with an apartment I’ve never seen the inside of,” says Ohno, musing.

“What if it’s a boat?” asks Aiba.

Ohno winces and sucks air through his teeth, thinking.

“What if it's a yacht?” asks Sho.

“Brand new?” Ohno immediately asks, looking sold, and they all laugh.

“On a more serious note,” says Sho, waving to catch Nino's eye, “what did the agency say about the announcement?”

Nino exchanges a look with Aiba; he’s told Aiba already, but he wants to make sure it’s okay. Aiba nods to show he understands: he knows Nino tells his bandmates everything. The three of them have known about and accepted Nino’s feelings for Aiba longer than Aiba himself has, after all.

“They’re still figuring out how to announce it,” says Nino. “Because the certificate is largely symbolic, but legally not a marriage, they don’t know what to say yet. I want it out in the open and I’ve already given them a date, so it’s just a matter of time I guess.”

Jun nods slowly. “But it’s not like the public will know it’s Aiba-san, since he’s not in the industry and you don’t have to tell anyone his name.”

“It’s the same-sex thing they’re not sure about,” says Nino. “I told them the press release has to explicitly state I’m marrying a man, and the execs were all: ‘But Ninomiya-kun, it’s never happened before’; I told them that’s why it has to happen now.”

Moving his legs under the coffee table, Jun nudges Nino’s shin with his toes. “Brave,” he says.

Nino shrugs. “Not really; everyone whom we were afraid of telling already knows and is okay with it, so there’s nothing left to fear.”

The other three nod; discreetly, Aiba reaches for Nino's hand, takes it.

It’s almost midnight when Sho, Jun and Ohno leave; they apologise again for coming empty handed—they were invited over on a whim after a PV filming—and thank Nino and Aiba for their hospitality. Nino is gratified that despite his schedule Aiba has always made the effort to hang out with his bandmates when they come over. It happens in various permutations, though as they get older they tend to prefer full attendance, no matter the occasion. Maybe it’s because the longer they stay in the industry, the more they want to cling to each other, to keep each other afloat. Fads have passed and names have faded, but People is still around after 18 years. It’s no mean feat, and only possible because they have each other.

Aiba is gathering empty beer cans from the coffee table, humming to himself a tune that Nino is surprised he knows. It’s from a song Nino hasn’t recorded yet; he’s been playing the demo a lot at home, trying to learn the lyrics. Nino is always impressed by how Aiba notices the throwaway things about him, even when they’re both so busy and don’t spend much time together. He likes the way Aiba pays attention. It’s always subtle to a point where Aiba probably doesn’t even realise he’s incorporated Nino so seamlessly into his life; he’s like one of those self-learning AIs that automatically learns your preferences and composes your news feed the way you like it, only better. Nino smiles to himself. He just thought of his fiancé as an AI. From Nino’s perspective it’s a remarkable compliment, and Nino saves the thought for later, for when they’re in bed and Aiba would be mellow enough to appreciate being called a super-smart robot.

Nino goes over to the table to help clean up, and as they bag up the rubbish in the kitchen Aiba says:

“I managed to apply for leave on Christmas Eve. Will you be able to make it?”

“Of course. It’s gonna be weird if I’m not at home for my own housewarming, right?” Nino laughs. “We’re performing at Tokyo Dome that night, but I’ll come home immediately after.”

“Okay, but everyone’s family, so you don’t have to rush or anything.” Aiba looks pleased. “We can include you officially then, right? Yuusuke’s asking about the food, he wants to know how many we have to order for.”

“Yeah, count me in.”

“Okay. So it’s you, me, my parents, your mum and sister, my brother, Vivian and the kids.” Aiba counts off. “Eight adults, two kids.”

“And Kazama-kun?”

“He can’t come; Disneyland is crazy during Christmas, they’re avoiding getting understaffed.”

“Ah, right.”

“He’ll drop by sometime soon, he said.”

“Sure.”

There are dishes to do, and Nino helps to put away the ones that have dried on the rack while Aiba soaps up the dirty ones in the sink.

“We’re the same age until Christmas Eve,” says Nino after he's finished stacking the last of the plates in the cupboard. He leans against the counter, watching Aiba work.

Aiba smiles as he squeezes more dishwashing liquid on the sponge. “And? How do you feel about it?”

“I feel _old_.” Nino walks over to Aiba and circles his arms around his waist. “I’ve known you twenty years. Crap, _you’re_ old,” says Nino, nosing past Aiba’s collar to nuzzle against his skin.

“We’re not old,” says Aiba, elbowing Nino as he chuckles. “Just older.”

Nino laughs and nods. “Fine. Older.”

“And still together with our one true loves.” Aiba swivels his head to look at Nino, eyes crinkling as he grins.

Nino presses a kiss to Aiba’s shoulder, holding him tight.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tl;dr - for Nino’s birthday, I decided to give him Aiba.
> 
> The same-sex certificate thing is real. Right now same-sex marriage is still not legalised in Japan, but there are places, like the two wards in Tokyo mentioned in this fic, which issue certificates that prove someone is somebody else's partner. More information is just a google away, if you're interested.
> 
> There are two things I always write in every fic: a kitchen scene, and a bathroom scene. It's branding, lol.
> 
> Special thanks to the drama Ossan's Love, which was a great inspiration for this fic, and the original dream pair Aiba-chan and Nino, for being my eternal muses. Lastly, because this was Aiba-centric, I also intended this to be some sort of cousin to the Nino-centric 'I Thee Wed' (which you can read [here](https://archiveofourown.org/works/12168132/chapters/27617973)!).


End file.
